Revealed Truths
by Jester of Fortune
Summary: Following the events of Hidden Truths, Arthur and the knights travel to Nemeth's aid, while Merlin struggles against overwhelming odds to keep the king safe. Will he succeed or will the dream of Albion crumble to dust? No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the sequel to Hidden Truths - you won't really know what's going on here if you don't read that first, so I suggest you check that one out first!**

**Hope you enjoy this one!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The route to the library was a well known but little used one for the King of Camelot. When he was a boy, his father had insisted he have a full and detailed education that included learning to read and write and his numbers, which had for much of the time, bored the young prince to tears. At first he had resented having to take a break from the more entertaining aspects of his education such as weapons and riding; after all, when he was king, he would have advisors who would read and write for him but it would be he who led the Army of Camelot into battle. Eventually, as he got older he realised the value of literacy and numeracy and once he discovered there was a wealth of books and scrolls on military tactics and battles fought both close to home and on the other side of the world, he even learned to enjoy reading. So Arthur had no longer resented his frequent trips to the library although he couldn't stop his heart sinking when Geoffrey of Monmouth would pull a book on philosophy or poetry from the shelves, rather than a military treaty. In the end, his father had allowed him to choose what parts of his education he focused on and the trips to the library had dwindled, although he still read occasionally when he had time.

The library smelt of dust and parchment and had for as long as Arthur could remember, with it memories of his childhood tumbled through his mind though he did not bother to focus on any one. It was Geoffrey that he was here to see. He had questions and there were only two people in the whole of Camelot likely to have the answers he sought; one was Gaius and the other Geoffrey but given the nature of the questions, Arthur thought it best to speak with Geoffrey - he was less likely to withhold information for fear of betraying a confidence.

Once he got over his sore head from the feast he had hastily organised to celebrate Merlin's return to the mortal coil, he had started to go over all the details of his kidnap and subsequent escape with Emrys. There had been something, some small detail, he knew he was missing; it had taken almost a week before he grasped what was bothering him: when Emrys had spoken to Morgana, he had called Arthur 'The Once and Future King' it was a strange title but it was not the first time he had heard it. No, the first time he had heard those words had been when he'd almost married Mithian and Merlin had called him that. At the time he had paid little attention but hearing the same words from a powerful sorcerer as from his own bumbling servant was something he could not ignore.

Arthur pushed open the door to the library, startling Geoffrey of Monmouth who had been dozing in his chair.

"Your Highness!" the librarian exclaimed. "Is there something you need help with?"

"I hope you can answer some questions I have," Arthur stated, waving the old man down with his newly recovered arm. It had been only two days since he had regained full use of it after an unknown guard of Odin's had severed the nerves with a lucky sword stroke, and Arthur took every opportunity to use it.

"Of course, sire, if I can," Geoffrey nodded and gestured to a chair for Arthur to sit.

"Have you ever heard of 'The Once and Future King'?" asked Arthur, taking a seat.

At his question, the old librarian sat up rigidly and frowned. "It is from an old Druid legend. Although I believe they refer to it as a prophecy."

"What is the nature of this legend?"

"Well, the Once and Future King is, according to the Druids, destined to unite the lands of Albion and return - " Geoffrey broke off looking slightly panicked, before reiterating, "He is supposed to unite the lands of Albion."

But his blunder had not gone unnoticed by the king. "And return, what?" At Geoffrey's hesitation, Arthur assured him that he could speak freely, without fear of reprisal.

"They say he will return magic to the land, Sire," Geoffrey said apologetically.

Arthur felt strangely unmoved by the librarian's words. Somehow he had known that was what Geoffrey about to to say and it explained Emrys' interest in him, although where the old sorcerer had got the idea that he, Arthur Pendragon, son of the man who had almost single-handedly wiped out the Old Religion, was a Druidic legend, he had no clue.

"Apparently, he will be aided and protected by a great warlock named 'Emrys' - " Geoffrey continued, warming to his topic.

"_Emrys_!" Arthur spluttered. "What do you know about Emrys?"

"Not much, Sire," replied the librarian, obviously confused by his king's outburst, "only that he is meant to be the most powerful sorcerer that ever was or will be. If you wish to know more, I would suggest you speak to Gaius; he is far more knowledgeable on Druidic lore than I."

It was insane. Surely the crazy old sorcerer who had saved him could not be the Emrys the Druids meant? Arthur had not been blind to his power but the man had not been able to heal himself when Morgana had dealt him a grievous a blow; a sorcerer of such power would certainly be able to do something to stop her or save himself, yet he had admitted to not being good at healing. Frustration welled up within the king. Every time he got an answer another two questions replaced it.

"Do you know anything more about this legend?"

"Not really, my Lord," admitted Geoffrey.

"Very well," said Arthur rising. "Thank you for your help, Geoffrey. Oh, yes. Do not mention this conversation to anyone - especially Gaius."

The old man was confused by the order but bowed his head in assent and Arthur left the library with answers that weighed heavily upon his shoulders.

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**A/N: Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: It's a quick update! Mediatrix (thank you for the review of Hidden Truths as well!), **MoonlitIvy**, **rmatri540**, **Felicity P **(hope you carry on enjoying the sequel)****, **Procrastination Is My Game**, and **Impulse53669 **thank you all very much for your kind reviews! Also, thanks to everyone who favourited/alerted - could not believe the response!  
**

**Very excited about tomorrow's ep!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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So Emrys believed he was destined to unite Albion and free magic. It was odd to discover he was part of a Druidic legend, especially one that involved returning magic to the Five Kingdoms but that was not what really troubled Arthur, after all he knew Emrys wanted him to lift the ban on magic. No, what troubled Arthur was that Merlin knew of this 'prophecy' and believed it. Where he had heard it was another troubling matter; had he heard it from Gaius? Or Emrys? Arthur had assumed that it was the physician who fed Emrys information but what if it was his own servant? After all these years, what if it had been Merlin consorting with the sorcerer? The very thought sent a stab of pain through him. But why? What would Merlin possibly gain? It was no benefit to him if Arthur was just king of Camelot or all of Albion, he was already the king's manservant and would remain so no matter how many countries Arthur ruled. That left freeing magic but that would only benefit those _with_ magic...

Arthur stumbled as the impact of his idle thought slammed into him.

_No, _he thought desperately. _Not Merlin. Not him._

No-one with magic, if they did not have ill-intent towards Camelot and her people, would be foolish enough to move here from a country where magic was not banned. Except of course, that Merlin was a complete idiot, who _would_ do something that stupid. Arthur had never really questioned why he had left Ealdor, accepting Merlin's fairly general explanation that he 'no longer fitted-in'. And what exactly did that mean? He wanted something more from life than farming? Or the villagers, living so close to Camelot's border, were scared what might happen if Uther found out about a young boy using magic in their village and pushed him out?

Taking a deep breath, Arthur carried on walking in the direction of his chambers. It was crazy! There was no way Merlin was a sorcerer. None. Maybe he knew part of this Druidic prophecy but did not know the part about returning magic to the land. That was possible.

Except...

Except what about the time Merlin had admitted to being a sorcerer? And the sheer number of times someone had accused him of it? Or that Arthur had known, for years, there was something more going on with his servant than was revealed at first glance?

Arthur slowed his pace as he approached the open door to his chambers. He did not want to believe that Merlin had lied and betrayed him all these years but the idea, now acknowledged, would not be silenced. There was only one option: he would have to find out the truth, no matter how difficult it would be to hear.

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Halting just outside the door, Arthur looked into his chambers, hearing the familiar voices of Gwen and Merlin within. Gwen was sat at the main table, her back to the door, with a number of parchments spread out in front of her; Merlin was stood next to her, his profile facing the door, craning his neck so he could see whatever she was pointing to, and absently polishing one of Arthur's gauntlets.

"Hampton isn't that far away," Merlin stated, "their harvest shouldn't have been that bad."

"Do you think they're lying?" asked Gwen doubtfully. "Is the tax so high they would do that?"

Merlin shrugged and scrubbed harder at the gauntlet for a second before returning to his less focused polishing technique. "Two bags of grain out of every five? In Ealdor we had to give Cenred four out of five! But maybe they don't know how good they have it. Or maybe they really did have a bad harvest."

"Well, if they had a bad harvest, I don't want to make them suffer anymore hardship than necessary but if they are lying I don't want them to think they can disobey Arthur and get away with it," said Gwen. "We'll send a patrol to have a look and report back."

Merlin nodded, "Who's going out that way next?"

Consulting a nearby list, Gwen pointed to a name and replied, "Sir Ralph."

Arthur didn't need to see all of his servant's face to see him grimace at the knight's name. "Ralph? He wouldn't know what a bad harvest looked like if it bit him on the nose! He'll just assume they're lying because they're peasants." Merlin thought for a moment, "Let's send Gwaine with him, at least then we'll get an honest report."

Gwen nodded and made a note next to Ralph's name before picking up another sheet of parchment and reading it. Next to her Merlin put the gauntlet he was polishing down on the table and started on its twin.

Arthur felt a rush of affection as he watched them. These people were his family: his wife who, despite an incredibly rough patch, he adored and his servant, who was like a brother to him. When he was younger he would never have believed he could feel so content and proud watching his wife and his servant tackling affairs of state on his behalf. Not that the Council could ever be allowed to know he let Merlin advise and make decisions for him while he was busy, they made enough fuss when he'd started to bring Gwen along to the Council meetings, God knows what they would do if they knew he let a servant get involved running the kingdom. He knew, as they could not, that Merlin was trustworthy and loyal.

Or he had, until this morning. Now there was a nagging doubt as he watched his friend examine the leather straps of the gauntlet with a practised eye - could he really have magic? After all these years, had he been lying? Was their friendship nothing more than a convenient excuse?

The king stepped into the room startling both occupants for a moment. "No," he stated, "I'll go myself. Merlin, saddle the horses, you're coming with me."

"But Arthur," Gwen said, looking up at him, "it's just a small tax dispute."

"I know," he replied, turning his attention to Merlin, "but if they are telling the truth then they should know their king cares. If they're lying, then they need to learn that I will not tolerate it."

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Purposely setting a gentle pace that would see them take two days to reach the village of Hampton, Arthur rode a little ahead of his servant, ignoring the younger man's almost continuous chatter, that was equal parts annoying and comforting. As dusk fell, Arthur called a halt for the day and tied up the horses while Merlin set up camp, efficiently lighting a fire and getting some bread out of his pack for both of them.

"So," Merlin said, handing a chunk of bread to his master, "you've been like a bear with a thorn stuck in its paw since we left Camelot. What's the matter? Missing Gwen?" he asked facetiously.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would have clouted his servant with something for his insolence but today he simply ignored Merlin's irreverent behaviour. He was in no mood for joking. This mission was not to determine if a small village was attempting to evade its taxes but whether his best friend was a traitor, guilty of consorting with a sorcerer and possibly having magic himself. The thought made him feel sick.

"Why did you leave Ealdor?" he asked, staring into the fire.

"What?" asked Merlin, nearly choking on his food. "All these years and now you want to know?"

"Answer the question," the king ground out.

Frowning, Merlin replied, "I already told you: I didn't really fit-in anymore."

"Why not?"

"I just didn't. What difference does it make?"

Realising he wasn't going to get an answer from this line of questioning, Arthur decided to stop beating around the bush and just be direct. "What's 'The Once and Future King'?"

This time Merlin did choke on his bread and Arthur watched him, unmoving, until he caught his breath and looked over innocently. "I have no idea."

"Don't lie to me, Merlin," growled Arthur, "you called me that once."

"I've called you a lot of things. If I'd known you were paying attention, I would have been more inventive," Merlin grinned and Arthur's temper frayed. In an instant, he was up and hauling his protesting servant to his feet by his shirt.

"Just tell me the truth!" Arthur yelled, shaking Merlin slightly. The younger man stopped struggling suddenly and sagged defeated, his gaze sliding away to focus on the forest floor.

"He is meant to be the greatest king who will ever live. It is his destiny to unite all the Kingdoms of Albion," sighed Merlin.

Arthur released him and took a couple of steps away before sinking to the ground. "And you think it's me, not because of my ancestor Brute, but because of a Druid legend?" Merlin nodded. "That's why you've always told me you believed in me?" demanded Arthur brokenly.

"No!" Merlin cried emphatically. "I believe the legend because _you_ are the Once and Future King. When I first met you, I thought you were a pompous, arrogant prat but after a while, I started to see that beneath that you are a good man. When I heard the prophecy, it was hard to believe, but now I have no doubt _you_ are the king described in the prophecy. You _are_ going to be the greatest king in all of Albion."

"Because of a prophecy?" Arthur scoffed.

"Because, despite your various character flaws, you are a good man, a great warrior, a kind ruler, a just master and a loyal husband."

Shaking his head, Arthur ran his hand through his hair. "You really want Albion to be united as one country?"

"If you're king," Merlin stated firmly, "yes."

Arthur looked up suddenly and met Merlin's gaze. "And magic? Do you want me to return magic to the land, Merlin?"

There was a flash of panic in Merlin's eyes and he swallowed roughly, dropping his eyes to the floor and Arthur felt his heart break in that moment. "Arthur...I...I'm so sor -"

Cutting across Merlin, Arthur said, "Just...don't. I don't want to hear it," he covered his face with his hands. "Go back to Camelot. Now."

"I can't leave you out here by yourself," Merlin protested.

"Get out of my sight," Arthur ordered.

For a few moments there was nothing but the sounds of the forest, the crackling of the fire and the pounding of his own heart and then he heard Merlin stand up and shuffle over to the horses.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin said one last time before riding off.

Arthur listened to him go and did not move for a long time.

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**A/N: So, what do you think? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Not sure if I'll keep updating everyday like this but...here's another one! Thank you very much to: Morange, midnightdove, Mediatrix (I know what you're saying - some of that is dealt with later. Hopefully, you'll like where I'm taking this since the whole friendship thing and Arthur being overwhelmed is sort of the point), ruby890, Procrastination Is My Game, Xander (Read on, is what I would say, read on! But I like the way you think!), and starwater13 (Cheers! I always thought it was strange that Arthur never questioned that Merlin called him the Once and Future King) for your reviews! I enjoyed reading them all!**

**This is more of a flashback than pushing the story along but I'll see about updating tomorrow. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Merlin rode a short distance away before dismounting and tying his horse to a tree, his stomach rolling with fear and dismay. He could not bring himself to comply with Arthur's orders to go back to Camelot, despite everything, it was still his duty as friend and servant to make sure Arthur was safe. He clung to that duty like a lifeline - without it, he was nothing more than a man who had betrayed his best friend. Merlin put his back to the tree his horse was tethered to and furiously wiped tears from his eyes. The horse started nuzzling his shoulder and he absently patted its head.

Things had been going so well since he had 'returned from the dead'. Not only had Arthur actually arranged and let him attend a feast (at which he got shockingly drunk due in no small part, he later discovered, to the drinking competition he, Arthur and Gwaine had been involved with. Fortunately, or not, depending on how you looked at it, he had no recollection of it whatsoever) but the next day, once hangovers had been banished by sleep, food and a hideous tasting potion prepared by Gaius, Arthur ordered him to attend him at the council meeting. It had not been a terribly unusual order, although since taking charge of the kingdom, Arthur had been less sadistic about forcing his servant to come and stand behind his chair with a jug of watered-down wine, just so he was not the only one bored to tears in the room, since he could hurry the meetings along at will so there was less need to inflict his boredom on his hapless servant. This time, Merlin suspected he had been ordered to attend simply because Arthur was feeling ill and was blaming his manservant for his excessive state of drunkenness the night before. Still whatever the reason he had dutifully followed the king to the council chambers, careful to remain the appropriate two steps behind his master, and stood quietly by Arthur's chair, jug in hand, prepared for three hours of tedium.

But the council was not about the usual tax changes and land disputes. No, this was the first proper war council Merlin had ever attended and he was horrified at the strategy Arthur was outlining to his advisors. Destroying homes and farms? Forcing starvation and deprivation upon innocent people, just to bring down Odin? It was wrong. It was also completely unlike Arthur to hurt harmless civilians as a means to an end but this was his plan, carefully put together and designed. Merlin used every bit of willpower he possessed to keep from asking Arthur if he had completely lost his mind since he knew the king would not take kindly to him speaking out in front of the council and therefore anything he said would be instantly ignored. It was better to wait until it was just the two of them - or three of them, as it now tended to be - and then he might be able to get Arthur to re-think his heinous invasion scheme. Judging by the look on Gwen's face, he would have plenty of support from her.

Shockingly, none of the other councillors seemed anything wrong it his proposal and all of them nodded acceptingly. One of them even said it was a just war, since Camelot had extended a hand in peace and friendship but Bernicia's response had been to kill Camelot's brave soldiers and kidnap and torture her king. After an hour or so of nodding and in some cases, malicious enjoyment, the councillors filed out, assuring Arthur he would have their support for the scheme. Only Leon, as Arthur's military advisor and second-in-command, Gwen, and Merlin remained behind.

"So, what do you think?" asked Arthur, looking over at Leon.

The knight hesitated but answered. "You know I would follow you into Hell itself, Sire. I will follow your orders, whatever they may be."

Behind Arthur's chair, Merlin opened his mouth to protest both Leon's submissiveness and Arthur's insane strategy but Gwen cut across him before he could say anything. "Sit down, Merlin. I can't get used to you serving me."

Glancing at Arthur to gauge his reaction, and seeing neither approval or disapproval, Merlin placed the jug of wine on the table and took a seat next to Gwen.

"I'm sure you have something to say on this, Merlin," Arthur sighed wearily, and Merlin realised this had been the point of bringing him all along. Arthur wanted his advice but was, as ever, too proud to ask for it directly.

"You can't seriously be thinking of doing this," Merlin exclaimed, waving a hand at the parchments on the table, "it's awful. It's wrong! And you," he said, looking at Leon, "surely you don't agree with this? Where is it in the Knight's Code to murder innocent people?"

"He's right, Arthur," Gwen stated quietly. "This isn't like you."

"Sire," Leon began, "I will follow any order you give...but I must agree with the Queen and Merlin. I do not agree with this."

Arthur sighed again and scrubbed his face. "Of course. Listen, I do not want to hurt people unnecessarily. But it was because of Odin that Morgana was able to kill my father, something I was willing to forgvie for the sake of peace, since I had lost a father and he a son. Instead, he killed three of my knights, he would have killed me and," here he pointed angrily at Merlin, "he did kill Merlin. If you think I am going to let him get away with that, you can think again!"

"No one is suggesting you ignore it, Arthur," said Gwen soothingly, "we're just saying there has to be another way."

"If any of you have ideas, I'm willing to listen to them."

There was momentary silence until the answer came to the warlock and he blurted out: "Issue a challenge."

The king raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You know: 'Single-combat by the Knight's Code' all that stuff you love," Merlin said condescendingly.

"Yes, Merlin, I know what you meant, but unless it has escaped your notice, I'm one arm short of a pair here," Arthur gestured at his left arm. "And even if I wasn't, what on earth makes you think he would accept?"

"You could beat Odin with one arm and you know it," replied Merlin. "And he'll accept because he's not interested in land or politics, he just wants revenge. Give him the opportunity to fight you one-on-one and he won't be able to resist."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "You might be right."

"Sire, you can't agree to this," Leon said firmly. "You are the king - you can't risk yourself like this."

"Why not?" Arthur asked. "It is my duty to protect my people and this will save not only Camelot's citizens but Bernicia's as well."

"Arthur," began Leon, dropping the formalities, "I know that you want to save lives, and you know I don't like this plan you've designed, but you cannot fight every battle, every war, single-handedly. What if Odin kills you?"

_Not while I'm breathing_, Merlin thought to himself. The only reason he was willing to even suggest Arthur risk his life in such a manner was because he knew his friend was a better swordsman than the rival king and if it came to it, a small amount of magic, judiciously used, would secure Arthur's victory.

"He won't," stated the king confidently. "And if he did, Guinevere would rule in my stead."

"Arthur - " Gwen protested but Arthur cut her off.

"I'm just stating a fact, Gwen," he assured her. "I've no intention of dying. Your reservations have been noted Leon, but I think Merlin is right. Send a messenger to Odin issuing a formal challenge."

Leon stood and bowed his head. "As you command, sire."

Merlin watched the knight leave the room, before turning back to Arthur with a grin. "Did you just say I was right?"

The king gave his wife an exasperated look but she just smiled indulgently. "Shut up, Merlin," responded Arthur. "One good idea does not negate a lifetime of idiocy."

The servant stood up and prepared to run. "'Negate'? Your vocabulary is really coming along, Sire!" With that, Merlin charged out the council chambers as fast as his legs would carry him. Behind him, the sound of Gwen's soft laughter and a loud crash as Arthur's chair toppled over in his haste to chase after his servant, mingled with Arthur furiously yelling his name.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Next update, as promised! Thank you to Mediatrix (I know what you're saying but baring in mind the other option is for Arthur go got to war - and the kind of war he was planning - I think it's not so OOC for Merlin to suggest a duel), ruby890 (More on the reveal below!), Phoenix1998, Impulse53669 (you have no idea how creepy! Especially since I finished this story about the airing of Ep 2!), midnightdove, and SupernaturalfreakisSG-1fan20 for your kind reviews!**

**So, really enjoyed last night's episode. A couple of moments where I was like "why?" for example, if Morgana has Merlin in the 'death-choke' why doesn't she just kill him? Still, great fun and a really good episode.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Hours later, as dawn light filtered through the trees, Merlin was awoken from an uneasy sleep by a boot kicking him none too gently in the ribs. Scrambling up, ready to defend himself, he came face-to-face with his enraged master. Arthur had clearly had as troubled a night as he, his hair stuck out at angles where he'd run his hands through it too many times, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot either through lack of sleep or anger or both. Master and servant eyed each other warily in the dim morning light.

"I thought I told you to go back to Camelot," Arthur growled, breaking the silence.

"And I told you I couldn't leave you out here by yourself," replied Merlin.

"I am your king!" said Arthur furiously, taking a couple of steps towards his manservant. "You should consider yourself lucky that I haven't run you through, but still you ignore my orders!"

Arthur's word caused fear and loss to spike through Merlin. He had been afraid of the day Arthur discovered his magic for so long and now it was here, it was worse than he could have imagined. There was no warmth or friendship, even deep and damaged in the king's gaze, only anger and cold intent. It seemed that years of friendship and near-constant companionship were not enough to even give Arthur pause.

"I'm your friend, Arthur," murmured Merlin, backing up, only to bump into a tree.

"Friend?" repeated Arthur dangerously as he slowly drew his sword. "Friend? No. Liar. Traitor. Sorcerer. Yes."

Merlin swallowed nervously, glancing down at the glinting blade in Arthur's hand and back to his face. "I swear to you, Arthur, on my mother's life, I have only ever tried to protect you! If I wanted to harm you, why would I wait for so many years? Your food, drink, weapons - if I wanted to I could have killed you a hundred times!"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think you want to kill me. I think you used me. You feigned loyalty and friendship in hopes of softening me to your cause!"

"Feigned?" Merlin exclaimed, outrage overtaking fear. "You have no idea the things I've done for you! Things that sicken me, that make me despise myself, but that I did for you, in the name of friendship and loyalty! I would give my life for you in a heartbeat!" Merlin paused, breathing heavily. "I did give my life for you! Or do you think that was all part of the plan?"

Arthur's expression softened slightly at Merlin's outburst and he lowered the sword slightly. "No. I know that wasn't planned." The king looked away for a moment, lost in thought, before returning his gaze to Merlin, desperation etched on his features. "If you truly have used magic out of friendship, then in the name of that friendship, stop using it. Promise me that you'll never use it again and I shall forget it, as my father did with Gaius."

Looking into Arthur's angry, desperate eyes Merlin almost wanted to say yes, to promise his friend he would never use magic again but for all he wanted to ease his friend's suffering, he could not bring himself to withdraw into the shadows now his secret was out, and more than that, it was a promise he could not keep. Despite his frequent and varied lies over the years, he could not bring himself to lie straight to Arthur's face knowing he had no intention of doing as he said. And how could he? Gaius was a skilled physician in his own right, but without magic what skills or talents did Merlin have? He would truly be nothing more than Arthur's clumsy fool of a manservant.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin said shaking his head, "I can't do that."

The king's face twisted into disappointed grimace. "Why not? Can't give up your ill-gotten power?"

"It isn't that simple!" Merlin replied. "All Gaius has to do is not use words of the Old Religion and that's it - no magic!"

"But it's different for you, is that it?" Arthur demanded scornfully.

"Yes!" the warlock cried. "I was born this way! I don't need words to use magic, I can just use it, like moving an arm or a leg."

"No one is born with magic."

Merlin sighed, apathy overtaking him. What was the point? He knew the stubborn set of Arthur's jaw, trying to convince him of anything would be impossible. "You know, I'm not even going to bother," he stated with resignation. "Just tell me what you're going to do and get on with it."

"And if I told you I'm taking you back to Camelot for your execution?"

Merlin shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but I can't let you do that."

The king swung his sword up and rested the blade against his servant's throat. "Then maybe I should just do it here."

"No, I don't think so," Merlin said calmly, glancing at the sword with disinterest before returning his gaze to Arthur.

Meeting his servant's eyes Arthur realised the man he saw standing before him was not the clumsy, bumbling idiot he thought he knew. That man may not have ever even existed. No, the man standing calmly in front of him, his back to a tree and a blade to his neck, his expression both sad and determined, was the one who had offered him wisdom and advice occasionally, the confident and capable advisor Arthur relied upon. This was the man who Merlin was when he was not hiding his magic.

Arthur wished that everything was as simple as he had once believed: that magic was evil and all those who practised deserved death. But it wasn't. The druids were not evil and he had promised them peace and respect, his recent rescue by Emrys showed that not all practitioners of magic used it to harm. But strangely it was not the magic that bothered him the most, it was the betrayal. Merlin was the one person Arthur thought he could rely on, who he trusted above all others but he had lied and pretended to be someone he was not for all the years they had known each other and he had never once placed his trust in Arthur. It was all lies and deception. It would be so easy to kill the lying sorcerer, with barely any pressure he could slice through his servant's neck and within moments he would be dead but judging by the ease which with Merlin was standing despite the clear threat to his life, the boy felt he would be able to stop Arthur without difficulty. More than that, though, Arthur couldn't bring himself to do it. Merlin had stood by him when others would not, he had given his life protecting the king and those actions could not just be ignored.

Sighing, Arthur lowered his sword and returned it to his belt. "Get on your horse," he ordered, roughly shoving Merlin towards the beast. "For saving my life, I will spare yours. Leave Camelot and do not return. If I see you within the borders of my kingdom again, I will kill you myself."

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**A/N: So there we have it! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry I didn't update quicker - life got in the way! Thank you all for the overwhelming response so far, especially Morange, Krishnaa, Aurora-dawn89, Mediatrix, midnightdove, jayley (that was some interesting stuff you were saying and I think in some ways you are definitely right. It's made me think about another plot...so thank you for that!), SupernaturalfreakisSG-1fan20, ruby890, lordstarlight, Bundibird (lol, thank you for avoiding your work by reading my stories - that gave me a real laugh! Don't let your boss catch you though! As to the endings, I'd just say trust me and keep reading!), and Glacier22 for your all your great reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

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SIX MONTHS LATER

Rain poured through the trees, drenching anyone or anything caught out of doors. It had been raining constantly for the last two weeks, rivers had burst their banks, crops had been ruined and paths turned to nothing more than mud. Grey clouds hung low and heavy in the sky. As she broke out of the tree line looking up the slight incline to the breathtaking sight of the white towers of Camelot, Princess Mithian of Nemeth sighed with relief. Cold and wet as she was, the sight of the great city was more welcome than a hot meal and a fire - after a week of travelling, her companion and bodyguard Julian gravely injured and the terrible memories of home, to finally see their destination was like a dream. Despite the events that had occurred here before, she knew she would be welcomed and safe within these walls.

They rode into the courtyard and Mithian dismounted, helping Julian out of his saddle, allowing him to lean on her as they made their way up the steps to the palace. She stopped in front of a guard and asked him the way to the physician's chambers, he pointed disinterestedly down the corridor and she turned in the direction he pointed. She was vaguely upset that no-one seemed to recognise her but she guessed that it had been long enough since she was here and after everything that had happened in Nemeth, she probably didn't look much like a princess.

Julian stumbled and leaned even more upon her, he mumbled an apology but was too weak to stop and she struggled to keep him upright. Suddenly, an arm appeared lifting him up and away, taking his weight.

"Need some help? Princess Mithian?" their rescuer asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Thank you," Mithian replied gratefully, "Sir Gwaine, yes?" At the man's nod, she continued, "I've come to see King Arthur but first I need to get Julian to the physician. We were attacked in the forest three days ago, Julian saved us both but he's been badly hurt."

"Odin's men have been scouting further and further into Camelot's territory," Gwaine said, anger and resignation clear in his voice. "We've been trying to keep regular patrols out to beat them back but Odin just keeps sending more. Arthur will want to hear if they've got so far north. If you want, I can take Julian here the rest of the way to Gaius and you can go and see him."

Mithian was loath to leave Julian but the sooner she saw Arthur the better and she trusted Gwaine to get her faithful bodyguard medical attention. Thanking him once more, she accepted his offer and he directed her to the council chambers. Within minutes she arrived at the council chambers and told the guard on the door who she was. He disappeared inside and returned almost immediately, ushering her inside.

The room was dominated a large round table, the Pendragon emblem emblazoned at its centre, with knights and councilors sat around it. She recognised one of them, Sir Leon, but did not know any of the others. Arthur sat at the far end, with a woman sat next to him, that Mithian assumed to be the blacksmith's daughter Arthur had originally broken their engagement for. It looked like marriage had not settled on Arthur as well as he had hoped; his eyes were red and slightly bloodshot, his hair was slightly longer than when she'd last seen him but it was scruffy and looked like he had run his hands through it a few too many times. Behind the couple, attempting to be inconspicuous, stood a tidy, well put together servant, clearly uninterested in the proceedings but nonetheless alert. Mithian did not recognise him and was surprised not to see Merlin present but pushed aside her curiosity. Right now she had more important matters to attend to.

Arthur stood up as she entered, his expression friendly and concerned. "Princess Mithian, we received no word you were coming. Are you well?"

At the kindness and concern in his voice, Mithian felt her eyes well with tears. It had been a long time since anyone had taken an interest in her well being. Still she was not here for herself but for her country and her people, to give in to her tiredness and her emotions would dishonour the sacrifices made to get her here.

"My Lord," she greeted, curtseying slightly, "thank you for your kindness. I wish I could bring good news of Nemeth but I have only the gravest of tidings." The king gestured to an empty chair at the table and asked her to continue. "Two months ago my father ordered the excavation of the caves near Nemeth; he believed that there might be an iron vein running through them. At first the digging went well, although there was no evidence of iron, then one night none of the workers returned from the caves. My father sent out some men to find out what had happened, they returned quickly shocked and horrified, they had found the workers dead, mauled and half-eaten and the excavation site destroyed. That evening we heard screams from the town and my father sent out more knights to find out what was going on...five families were slaughtered but no-one saw anything. Night after night this continued, until my father led a large patrol to find the beast that was terrorising our city." Here Mithian was unable to stop the tears that trailed down her cheeks. "Neither my father or any of his men returned from that patrol. My brother found them all the next morning..." she bit her lip slightly, and wiped her eyes. "My brother has taken the throne and sent out riders to all our closest allies asking for aid."

Arthur frowned. "But we have heard nothing from Nemeth."

Mithian shook her head, her expression slightly embarrassed. "My brother did not want to ask for your help, after..." She shrugged, "None of our allies would send even a few men and I told Gareth I would come to you myself and ask for your help. He was reluctant but he realises we cannot hope to defeat this evil ourselves."

"You are, of course, welcome to any aid we can give," Arthur stated, "but I am not sure what you think I can do that your brother cannot."

Mithian laughed, "The Knights of Camelot are known to the best in all of Albion and you have defeated even the Great Dragon. I cannot think of anyone more experienced at defeating mystical creatures."

"And still there have been no sightings of it?" Arthur enquired.

"None, my Lord," the princess shook her head. "Only the devastation it leaves behind."

"Very well. Camelot shall come to your aid, Mithian. If it is possible, I shall see your lands ridded of this terrible plight."

Mithian's knees went a little weak with relief. Truly, this had been the last resort and she had argued long with Gareth that Camelot was the only kingdom able to provide help until finally, still against his wishes, she had set out with Julian and three other of Nemeth's most loyal knights. Gaius, Marcus and Bors had all fallen to see her safe to Camelot's border - the creature picking them off one by one at night.

"Thank you, my Lord," she said gratefully.

Arthur dismissed the council and followed the other men out, the servant Mithian did not recognise close at his heels. The princess expected the queen to follow her husband out but she did not, staying behind and watching Mithian curiously.

Meeting her eyes, Mithian inclined her head. "My Lady."

A wide, friendly smile broke out across the queen's face and she waved a dismissive hand. "Please, call me Gwen. Everyone else does."

Mithian doubted that to be true, since she was queen, but the other woman was making a real attempt to be friendly and Mithian was not about to throw it in her face. "Mithian."

"I'll see to it you're settled in the guest quarters. No doubt Arthur will want to leave for Nemeth tomorrow."

"You don't know how grateful I am that he has agreed to help."

Gwen shrugged, "Arthur would help everyone if he could."

"He's a good man," Mithian nodded and then remembered the woman before her might not appreciate her husband's former fiancee, commenting on his qualities but Gwen just nodded and gestured for Mithian to follow her out the room. The made their way down the corridors and once more, Mithian was impressed by the sheer beauty and size of Camelot. Nemeth was a good kingdom but it was nothing compared to Camelot's majesty. It was another reason Gareth and her father had been so furious when she had returned unmarried - to loose such an alliance was a heavy blow. Part of her had been upset, part of her understood and respected Arthur for choosing his heart over his head. After all, she was not sure that he would truly have been happy and certainly, Merlin would not have made her life easy. And it would have been difficult to live in a situation where even the king's manservant had more influence than she did.

Thinking about the overly protective servant made her wonder he was once more. "Is Merlin well?" Mithian asked. "I was surprised not to see him at Arthur's side."

The queen stumbled to a halt and turned to face Mithian, her expression wary. "Merlin doesn't live in Camelot anymore."

"Really?" Mithian asked surprised. "He was so dedicated to Arthur - so protective - when I was here last, I did not imagine he would ever leave."

Gwen nodded, "It has not been an easy six months without him. I would ask you not to mention him to Arthur. He won't admit it, but Arthur did not take him leaving well."

"Of course," Mithian agreed.

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**A/N: So please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here's another update! Thanks to **Glacier22** (see my comment below), **Mediatrix** (trust me, all will become clear), **ruby890** (lol, yes, things haven't been good - but let's remember, Arthur is stubborn...), and **hanipman** (it will make sense later on, don't worry) for all your kind reviews!**

**Since a couple of people have mentioned it a couple of times: I had this story basically done and dusted by the second episode of Season 5. I had no idea that they were actually going to use Mithian and Odin in the same episode! It creeped me out when I saw episode 4!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Merlin winced as he pulled the makeshift bandage from his leg, the wound was still bleeding slightly and the cloth had stuck to it. It had not really improved in the three days since he had been injured. Since his banishment from Camelot, which he had completely ignored, he had moved around, sleeping rough but staying close enough to the city to be able to keep an eye of Arthur's movements. Occasionally he had stayed with the Druids but they always moved from one kingdom to another and he had refused to do so. Arthur might have sent him into exile but he had a duty and a destiny to protect the king, whether he wanted it or not. For the first month it had not been so bad but after Arthur had fought and defeated Odin, refusing to kill him at the last moment, extracting a promise of peace from the disgraced king, which he had promptly broken, relations between Bernicia and Camelot had taken a turn for the worse and now Odin's men were everywhere. Arthur and the Knights were patrolling almost everyday trying to fight back the invading forces, so he was forced to keep constant a constant vigil to ensure no harm came to the king.

Three days ago he had followed the patrol right into the middle one of Odin's raiding parties. The Knights of Camelot were outnumbered by Odin's men and Merlin had watched in dismay as Arthur had been overwhelmed by five well-armed knights, as his own men battled heroically against the invaders. Merlin had sent the men flying with a quick panicked word, Arthur oblivious as ever, just stepped over them and continued fighting. Unfortunately, the warlock hadn't noticed one Odin's men behind him until it was almost too late. He turned at the last moment avoiding the killing blow, but the man's sword buried itself deeply in his leg. He had barely managed to keep going long enough to ensure Arthur was safe, although a swift spell slowed the worst of the blood long enough for him to get back to the cave he was currently calling home.

He managed to bandage the wound and staunch the blood with magic and pressure but he could not get the wound to heal not matter how much he tried. He kept himself going as best he could and waited for his weekly visit with Gaius.

Gaius would know what to do.

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That became his mantra as he lay huddled and cold in the darkness of the cave - Gaius will know what to do. Over and over, occasionally he would mix Gaius up with Arthur and he found himself looking forward to seeing the king. After so many years it was strange to be so cut off from his friend but then in a moment of clarity, he would remember that it had been Arthur who banished him and he started to wonder if he should bother trying to get to Gaius. After all, what was the point? Maybe it was just be easier to let go and leave someone else to protect Arthur.

But he couldn't. That was his duty.

Gaius would know what to do.

The day was overcast with thick grey clouds hanging heavily over the city of Camelot and there was a lingering dampness in the air that hinted at more rain to come. Normally, Gaius would not have been out on a day such as this, since it was unpleasant and the damp made him ache more than usual. But nothing was normal anymore. Not since the terrible day six months ago when Arthur stormed into his chambers, fury etched on his face and his hand gripping his sword so tightly that the knuckles were white.

"You lied to me, Gaius," Arthur stated without preamble. "Magic will not be tolerated in my kingdom!"

Despite the flush of panic that flowed through him, Gaius schooled his features to polite confusion and asked, "Sire?"

"Don't 'Sire' me! You know exactly what I'm talking about, how could you not know! You've been harbouring a sorcerer!" the king growled.

Gaius tried to glance behind the furious king to see if Merlin was anywhere to be seen but could not see the young man. Fear for his ward built within him but he forced himself to remain calm.

"Don't bother looking for Merlin," said Arthur coldly. "He's not coming back."

"Arthur, what have you done?" Gaius whispered horrified.

The king frowned before shaking his head. "I haven't killed him, Gaius. Although I would be well within my rights to have done that. I would be well within my rights to have you executed for hiding him."

"Have you learned nothing from Emrys? Merlin lives to protect you, Arthur. That is all he has ever used his magic for," Gaius responded heatedly, "and if you want to execute me for protecting him so he could, go ahead."

"I'm not going to execute you, Gaius," Arthur said, shaking his head once more, "but you've proven to me that you can't be trusted. I no longer require your services on the Council," the king turned away stiffly, heading to the door. "You may remain in Camelot and you may retain these chambers but I don't want to see you unless I'm dying or in serious need of medical attention."

The king left then, leaving Gaius afraid for his ward but unsure what he should do now. He had been sorely tempted to leave Camelot and start over somewhere new. He was not so old that he could not make one last trip to another town or country.

That night though, as he lay thinking about his options, the door of his chambers swung open and Merlin snuck in. The physician had given his foster son a tight hug before asking how he was and demanding to know what he was doing back in Camelot.

"You don't think I'm actually going to do what that prat says?" Merlin asked with a forced grin.

"You can't be planning on staying here?"

"No," the servant said, shaking his head. "Not even I'm that foolish. I'll move around, stay in the forest, maybe stay with the Druids." He put his hands on his guardian's shoulders, "I had to come back to see you and make sure you were all right. I was worried Arthur would do something stupid."

"Don't worry about me, my boy. Arthur removed me from the Council but nothing more. Either way, I think I'll leave Camelot. If Arthur would banish you for nothing more than protecting him for all these years, I do not think I wish to serve him anymore."

"It's not his fault, Gaius," Merlin said sadly. "I lied to him and I knew how badly he would react to the truth. It's still my duty to protect him but I need your help to do that."

So that night, Gaius reluctantly agreed to stay in Camelot and feed information to his ward each week, allowing him to continue protecting the king. Six months later, the elderly physician was still travelling into the forest to 'collect herbs' and see Merlin, updating him on Arthur's movements and the goings on in the city. Thankfully, Geoffrey of Monmouth had agreed to keep his friend informed of the Council discussions, as long as they were not secret. Which was why Gaius was here in the forest on a damp and overcast day, waiting for his erstwhile ward. He was worried about his foster son, who had become even thinner. Merlin was normally much earlier than this and Gaius was beginning to get worried when suddenly the young man emerged from the undergrowth, pale and covered in sweat and mud, half dragging his right leg behind him.

Instantly, Gaius rushed over to him, catching sight of the makeshift bandage tied around Merlin's leg. It was covered in blood and mud and was obviously fairly old.

"Merlin! What happened?" he asked urgently, encouraging the younger man to lean on him.

"Gaius?" the wounded man said turning to him. "You have to help me! I need to find Arthur!"

"You need to rest and let me look at that leg," Gaius replied.

"No, no! He's in danger...I've got to do something!"

The physician in Gaius took in how glassy Merlin's eyes were and the faint fire of magic that burned in them continuously and realised the warlock was more than likely delirious. The wound in his leg must have become infected and his magic was doing its best to keep him going but since Merlin's magic was so tightly bound to Arthur and Merlin himself was so dedicated to the young king, it was forcing him to keep going to protect Arthur from a non-existent threat.

"Arthur is fine, my boy," assured Gaius, trying to get Merlin to rest against a fallen tree.

"He's in danger," Merlin stated stubbornly but allowed himself to be seated.

Gaius pulled the bandage from Merlin's leg to assess just how bad the injury was, as he did so, Merlin cried out in pain and weakly tried to push him away.

"Leave me be, Gaius," he pleaded. "I've got to keep going. I've got to save Arthur."

The physician ignored his protests and continued to remove the bandage. The sight that confronted him made him feel sick. Over the years he had seen plenty of terrible injuries, indeed, many worse than what he was seeing now but none of them had been on someone he saw as his own son. It was a deep wound, that cut diagonally through the the thigh muscle of Merlin's leg and almost reached the bone; it was swollen and oozing blood and pus and angry red lines ran outward from it, working their way up and down the young man's leg.

Merlin was starting to get anxious again and Gaius realised he was going to have to knock his ward out if he wanted to treat the warlock, so he placed his hand on Merlin's forehead and uttered a sleeping spell, watching satisfied as the injured man relaxed and slumped unconscious against the tree.

There was not much he could do for the young man with conventional medicine, the infection was such that it would be almost impossible to treat before it killed him. Taking a deep breath, the physician searched his memory for a suitable healing spell and placed a hand on the wound, uttering words he had not said for more than twenty years. He felt the magic under his control shift sluggishly but although it pooled in his hand, it stopped as if repelled. Gaius took a closer look at the wound, praying that it was only the severity of the wound preventing him from healing it with one spell and not Merlin's magic attempting to heal the wound and repelling any other magic, since there was no way his weak magic would be able to break through the warlock's.

Focusing instead on clearing the infection, Gaius commanded his magic to that purpose. This time he felt his magic respond quicker and it poured into the bloody mess of Merlin's leg. Relieved the physician pulled his hand back, inspecting the injury again. The red lines were starting to slowly recede but it would take time and until the infection was gone, he could not stitch up or heal the cut itself.

For now the best he could do was get Merlin into shelter, keep him warm and wait for the infection to clear up. He stood up and pulled the younger man up with worrying ease, heading for a familiar cave nearby.

As he dragged his delirious and thin ward towards the safety of the cave, still occasionally mumbling about saving Arthur as he slept, Gaius didn't think he'd ever hated anyone as much as he hated Arthur right now.

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**A/N: So, there we go! Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Next update! I have been greatly pleased by the reaction people have had to this story, although I am sorry since it seems that some people are very angry at Arthur...he is being a bit of an idiot! Hope you all continue to enjoy the story!**

**Thanks to **Phoenix1998**, **jayley**, **ruby890**, **HarunoKasumi** (Thank you for the hug!) and **Guest** for their reviews! They were much appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Warmth. That was the first sensation he became aware of. The last thing he remembered, he was trying to bandage his leg, waiting to meet up with Gaius for some decent medical attention and being unable to get warm, no matter how close he got to the fire he'd built. Thinking back, that was probably due to a fever. It would certainly explain the terrible dreams he'd had about watching Arthur being literally torn apart by some hideous beast. What it didn't explain, was where he was now.

Cracking his eyes open he looked around slowly, careful not to move too much. The rock all around him suggested he was in a cave of some sort, nearby there was a small fire burnt down to its embers and close to that, only an arm's length away, was Gaius. The old man was propped up against the wall, asleep but it didn't look comfortable. He was a comforting sight though.

Shifting to sit up, pain lanced through his leg and he could not stop the groan that escaped him. Obviously, Gaius had not been able to heal him. The physician must have only been sleeping lightly though, because he was awake in an instant and pushed him back down.

"Stay still! That wound is still open," Gaius stated. "How do you feel?"

"Better than I did," Merlin said, wincing. "Where are we?"

"In a cave near Camelot."

"How did you find me?" Merlin asked frowning.

"I didn't," Gaius stated, busying himself with stoking the fire and checking the bandage wrapped around Merlin's leg. "You found me. Although I think that was more by luck than design. You seemed to think Arthur was in mortal danger and were on your way to Camelot to save him."

Gaius' tone wavered between amusement and disapproval but Merlin ignored it. He appreciated his mentor's concerns but in the end, his life was worth nothing if he could not protect the king. Even if the king wanted nothing to do with him, Merlin still considered it his duty to give up everything to see him unite Albion.

"How is Arthur?" he asked quietly.

"Well," replied Gaius. He did not add the king was in good health but poor spirits; that he was withdrawn and terse to all but his wife, he did not laugh and he did not smile, that he did his duty as king with determination but gone was the natural enthusiasm that Arthur had always possessed.

"I haven't missed any patrols, have I?"

"No," the physician replied. Gaius threw another log on the fire, hesitating. Merlin would want to know of Arthur's trip to Nemeth but he would not be willing to lie still and heal if he thought his master was riding into danger. Despite Arthur banishing him, Merlin was just as loyal and dedicated as he had been when he was the king's trusted servant. With a heavy heart, Gaius turned back to his ward. Merlin's destiny was so great, he knew he could do nothing to stand in its way, yet he feared that while it was great, it would not be a happy one and he could not help but wish for a better life for his foster son than living in the forest to protect a man who would kill him as soon as look at him. "Princess Mithian came to ask for Camelot's help. Apparently a terrible beast has been released from some mines near the capital and it has ravaged the surrounding countryside, killing the king even as he tried to defend his people."

Merlin sat up quickly, wincing and groaning as pain shot through his leg. "What, agh, what did Arthur say?"

"He's leaving today with the Knights."

"I have to go," Merlin said, pushing himself up but slumping back down. "Gaius, you have to get me ready to travel."

"No, my boy," Gaius said, shaking his head. "If you try to go after him now, that infection will spread again. You need rest."

"If I don't go after him and something happens, it doesn't matter if my leg works or not!" Merlin growled. "I'm not going to let him get killed to save my leg!"

"I'm not talking about your leg, Merlin, I'm talking about your life!"

"My leg, my life, what does it matter? None of it matters if Arthur dies!"

"It matters to me," Gaius said forcefully but quietly.

Merlin paused and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Gaius, but you have to understand -"

"I understand more than you might think, Merlin," the older man said, cutting him off, "but it doesn't mean I agree with you throwing your life away for a man who banished you."

"You don't have to like it," Merlin replied vehemently. "You just have to support me. Stitch my leg up, or I'll do it myself."

The elderly physician pulled back, shocked at Merlin's tone but reluctantly pulled his medicine bag closer and pulled out his needle and thread. With a muttered word, he dulled the pain and made one last attempt to clear out the infection and completely heal the wound but nothing happened. He made short work of the stitches and angrily shoved the needle and thread back in the bag.

"There. If you insist on doing this."

Merlin pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and staggered towards the entrance of the cave. "Thank you, Gaius. I'm sorry but I have to do this."

Gaius watched him leave. "I know, my boy, I know," he whispered sadly.

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Arthur double checked the straps on his arm-guards before picking up his sword and strapping it around his waist. It was time to leave for Nemeth, although to tell the truth he was not looking forward to the trip. Mithian would no doubt expect him to be good company, since she was insisting on returning to her brother's side and forsaking the safety of Camelot. Maybe he could hand her off to Gwaine, although he was more subdued since...he had been more subdued in the last six months, he still liked to chatter incessantly and flirt with pretty women.

The door swung open and he looked up to see Gwen stood with a worried look on her face. "What's the matter, Guinevere?"

"It's Gaius," Gwen answered hesitantly, knowing how much her husband disliked dealing with the physician these days.

Arthur dropped his gaze back to his arm-guards and tightened the straps unnecessarily. "What about him?"

"He left to go and collect herbs yesterday and he hasn't come back yet."

With a final tug on the straps, Arthur strode across the room and past his wife, making his way towards the courtyard where his men would be assembling, while Gwen followed as his side.

"And?" he asked carelessly.

"He should be back by now."

"He collects herbs, Gwen," Arthur said impatiently, "it's what he does."

"Not overnight!" Gwen exclaimed.

They reached the courtyard and Percival stepped forward holding the reins of both his and Arthur's horses, offering them to the king who took them. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Arthur!" Gwen said quietly, placing a restraining hand on his arm. "Arthur, I know you're angry at him but he's our physician. He's saved your life and the lives of many of your people - he deserves more from you. You know Odin's men are all over the forest! Anything could have happened to him!"

Percival listened to Gwen for a moment, before retreating discreetly to stand with his fellows. No one wanted to get in the way of the Queen when she was giving Arthur one of her lectures.

"Fine!" Arthur sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to look for him."

"I can't," the king shook his head. "I'm meant to be leaving for Nemeth."

"I didn't mean you, personally," Gwen responded exasperated. "Stop being so pig-headed! I just meant send someone to look for him."

Arthur shot his wife an annoyed glance and waved Gwaine over. "All right. Gwaine, I want you to look for Gaius in the woods. He went searching for herbs last night and did not return. Find him, bring him back here and then catch us up."

"Not a problem," the dark-haired knight acknowledged, swinging himself into the saddle and riding out of the courtyard.

"Thank you, Arthur," Gwen said sweetly, reaching up to plant and kiss on her husband's cheek.

As always, Arthur found it difficult to stay angry at Gwen, even if she had called him pig-headed. He returned her kiss and pulled her in for a hug. "Take care, Guinevere. I'll see you when I get back."

"You be careful, Arthur," Gwen whispered, touching the scar that ran down his cheek.

"I will," the king swung himself onto his horse and reined it's head about, trotting out the courtyard. "Let's go!"

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**A/N: Please let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Chapter 8! Thank you Mark (I see what you're saying but I really do think Merlin's character flaw, if he has one, is he's too loyal - just look at what happened in The Disir! I truly think he would be so self-sacrificing), jayley (there will be more on Arthur's POV, but Arthur doesn't 'hate' Merlin - he's just feeling very, very betrayed), Impulse53669 (thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it!), and ruby890 (I touch on it, but this is about what's happening now) for your reviews!**

**So, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Gwaine rode at a swift pace through the forest, looking for signs of Gaius. Although he had been shocked at Merlin leaving so suddenly, he understood the reasons once Arthur had explained about Hunith falling ill. He had hoped that Merlin would return quickly but it seemed his mother's illness was worse than expected or he had decided not to return to Camelot. Maybe once this Nemeth business was over he could convince Arthur to give him some time off and visit his friend. Maybe he could convince Arthur to come with him. Although he strenuously denied it, the king had been moping around ever since his servant had left, seeing him again would probably cheer him up.

Finding Gaius, though, was his primary concern right now. Not so much because he had been given an order by his king but because he knew how important the old man was to Merlin and he felt it was his responsibility to look after Gaius until Merlin got back. Whenever that was.

Luckily the physician was a man of habit and Gwaine knew where he picked most of his herbs. Hopefully, he would be sheltering nearby and it was be a simple task of taking him back to Camelot and following his friends to Nemeth. He'd been hoping to spend some time chatting to Princess Mithian on the ride over and it looked like it would be a good fight once they found the mythical beast.

Finally he came to the clearing where Gaius usually collected herbs and instantly, the knight's stomach dropped. Blood was still visible on the ground although it had dried and there were two sets of footprints around it. Gwaine jumped down and investigated the area more thoroughly. It was not what he first thought, it looked like someone had come through the forest bleeding, met another person and then they had both left together. Who was bleeding he had no idea but he was going to find out.

Following the dried blood trail, he eventually reached the entrance to a familiar cave. He'd spend days hiding here with Arthur and Merlin the first time Morgana had taken Camelot. Drawing his sword, he approached carefully and quietly, glancing around the corner quickly to see who was in there. The only person he could see though was Gaius, who seemed to be staring absently at the dying fire in front of him.

"Gaius?" Gwaine called out. "Gaius, are you all right?"

"Gwaine?" Gaius looked up, startled. "What are you doing here?"

The knight made his way down the natural stairs and knelt down next to the old man. "Arthur sent me to find you when you didn't come back to Camelot."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'm surprised he noticed I was gone."

"Gwen told him," Gwaine explained. Why the old man had fallen so quickly out of favour with the king, Gwaine did not know. Nor had he been able to find out. Neither Gaius or Arthur were willing to talk to him about it and he had only been able to surmise that it was something to do with magic, since that was just about the only thing that got Arthur so worked up. But what that could have to do with Gaius was beyond him.

"Ah," the physician said, nodding, "that explains it. Bless, Gwen."

"Are you injured, Gaius? I followed a blood trail here. And where's the other man who was with you?"

"I wasn't the one bleeding."

"Who was it?"

"Merlin."

"What?" Gwaine exclaimed. "Is he all right?"

"He shouldn't be trying to walk, he's badly injured but I told him Arthur was travelling to Nemeth and he wouldn't consider staying."

"And you didn't stop him?"

"You of all people should know, no one stops Merlin when he thinks Arthur is in danger."

"Are you able to make it back to Camelot?" Gwaine asked, standing up and sheathing his sword. "I'll go after him."

"Gwaine..." Gaius trailed off. He wanted to tell the knight not to let Arthur see Merlin but he couldn't do that without revealing that the young man had not left to look after his ill mother, but had been banished by the king himself and that would lead to more questions that Gaius was not willing to deal with. If Merlin wanted to tell Gwaine the truth, that was up to him. "Keep him safe."

"I will, Gaius, I will."

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It didn't take long for Gwaine to find the injured man limping along slowly through the woods. Although the knight followed close behind him, the young man seemed oblivious to his presence. After a few moments he overtook his friend, reined in his horse and jumped out of his saddle. His intention had been to berate his friend for not taking better care of himself but the sight of him pulled him up short.

Never had he seen Merlin look so ill. He was thin and pale, his hair greasy and matted with a full beard on his face; his clothes were tattered and bloodstained. It looked like he'd been living in the forest for months, not staying with his mother in Ealdor.

"Merlin, mate, what the hell happened to you?"

The former servant looked up at him, bleary-eyed. "Gwaine?"

"Yes," the knight replied, throwing Merlin's arm over his shoulder. "What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," Merlin said, through gritted teeth.

The knight helped Merlin onto his horse and took the reins, leading the animal. "Come on, if I let you die, Gaius and Arthur will kill me!"

"Trust me," Merlin said, gripping the pommel of the saddle, "Arthur isn't going to care."

"He's been moping around ever since you went to look after your mother," responded Gwaine. "Believe me, he'll care. Mind you, your mother could have done with looking after _you_ a bit more."

Merlin huffed out a bitter laugh. "Is that what he told everyone? I suppose it's as good an excuse as any."

"What do you mean "excuse"?" Gwaine asked, turning to look at the wounded man over his shoulder.

Merlin leaned forward, resting his head on the horse's neck and closed his eyes. "I think I'd like to be quiet for a bit, if you don't mind, Gwaine."

The dark-haired knight wanted to demand answers from his friend but realised it would do no good. Merlin was already asleep and he knew that right now, it was the best thing for him. So instead, he continued to lead the horse at a gentle pace through the forest, humming softly to himself.

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**A/N: Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Next chapter! Thank you to Healed535, ruby890, Impulse53669, Mediatrix (Glad you agree with my interpretation of Merlin's character. Arthur's POV is touched on later, don't worry!), HarunoKasumi (I'm very pleased you think they are in character, that's something I really try to ensure!), and youshouldn'tneedtoknow for your reviews!**

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Merlin awoke, what he assumed to be several hours later, to the sound of quiet swearing and the sound of flint being repeatedly struck. Cracking open his eyes, he saw Gwaine trying, and failing, to light a fire. There was a chill in the air, a testament to the winter drawing in and night was closing fast.

"Having trouble?" he chuckled, slowly pushing himself up and leaned against the tree he had been sleeping beneath.

"The wood is wet," the knight replied tossing the flint to the side. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere on the way to Nemeth," Gwaine shrugged carelessly and pointed to Merlin's leg. "I had a look at that while you were out. Gaius is right you shouldn't be going anywhere on it."

"I'll be fine," Merlin replied, absently checking the bandage.

"Since when have you been a physician?"

"I was the physician's apprentice, I'll have you know," Merlin said with a smile. After a moment the smile dropped away and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I used to be a lot of things. I used to be _someone_," he whispered.

Gwaine waited to see if his friend would say anything else but at his continued silence, decided to ask his own questions. "Where have you really been, Merlin? You didn't go back home, that I'm sure of."

"Home?" the younger man laughed bitterly. "Yes, I was home, because I didn't go anywhere."

"You mean you've been here in the forest for six months?" demanded Gwaine. At Merlin's nod, he exclaimed, "Why the hell were you living in the forest? And why would Arthur say you'd gone back to Ealdor?"

Merlin looked over at his friend and weighed up his options. Part of him recoiled at the thought of telling Gwaine exactly what happened that evening six months ago, it was a painful memory and required him to reveal a secret he had maintained so long that he was not sure he could even form the words; but another part of him, the part the was tired and lonely, that was sick of living in damp caves and never seeing the people he cared about unless it was at a distance, just wanted to tell his friend everything.

"I imagine so he wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment," Merlin replied, coming to a decision. "He banished me. Swore to kill me if I came back."

"What did you do to make him do that?" the knight asked in disbelief.

"I...I lied to him."

Gwaine laughed, "Merlin, my friend, he knows I lie to him on a daily basis and he's never banished me. And, trust me, he cares about you a lot more than he cares about me!" He sat back against a tree, picking his sword up and resting it across his lap, "Are you sure he wasn't just overreacting?"

"This is a bit more serious than your repeated drinking trips before training." Gwaine looked at him expectantly and Merlin froze. He'd made up his mind to tell Gwaine the truth but now the moment was here, his throat just seized up and the words refused to form. Right now, he wasn't sure he could deal with the other man's rejection - it was so good to be with a friend again and he didn't want to risk that, but at the same time he wanted to tell someone the truth. Without giving himself time to think abut it any further, Merlin waved a shaking hand in the direction of the unlit wood, feeling his magic instantly respond. With barely a thought the wood caught fire, bathing the area in light and warmth.

To his credit, Gwaine did not even twitch at so obvious a display of magic. He looked from Merlin to the flames and back. "Oh." The knight's grip in the hilt of his sword tightened and Merlin's heart hammered in his chest. If it came down to a fight, he knew he could beat his friend but he did not want it to come to that.

"You do know," began Gwaine slowly, "that as a Knight of Camelot, I'm sworn to uphold all laws? Especially the one about magic."

Disappointed and saddened, the warlock nodded but said nothing.

"Why, Merlin? Why would you come here if you have magic?" Gwaine sighed.

"I came to learn how to control it," Merlin answered, his voice horse. "I stayed to protect Arthur."

The knight ran a hand through his hair but never removed his other from the sword. "Only you would think it was a good idea for a man with magic to protect a man who hates it."

"He's a great king and he's my friend," the younger man said defensively.

"He banished you," responded Gwaine bluntly.

"It's not his fault."

"So you've been hiding the forest all this time? Why didn't you go back to Essetir? You would have been safe there."

"I can't look after Arthur from Essetir," Merlin stated with a frown, his tone suggesting he was speaking to a particularly slow child. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You know, Merlin, I don't think I've ever met anyone as loyal as you are to Arthur." Lifting his sword, the knight drove the point into the ground next to him and leant forward, holding out his hands to warm them. "I take it then when we get to Nemeth you don't want his royal turnip-head to know you're there?"

"No. I wish there was another way but I don't think this is something he's going to forgive."

Gwaine wanted to reassure his friend but to be honest, he had a terrible feeling the boy was right. Arthur had trusted Merlin more than anyone else and to discover he was a sorcerer would have just about broken the king. Arthur might be more forgiving than his father, believing in giving people a second chance, but his best friend and servant having magic might be a step too far.

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**A/N: So there we go! Gwaine knows the Secret! Let me know what you thought!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Update time! Thank you to **Healed535**, **StarBolt1966** and **Guest** for your reviews! Hope you all enjoy this next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The king sighed and forced himself to chew another piece of bread. He hated long trips like this now. They were quiet and depressing. His knights were always friendly and respectful but he was aware he'd pushed them away over the last few months and they had naturally started to excluded him from their jokes and conversations. There was no malice, if he did ever join in they were always open and happy to include him but he rarely did and it was no longer with the ease that had been the hallmark of their friendship before.

He knew it was a bad habit. He'd had enough lectures off Gwen to know that, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. No one was to be trusted. There were lies and secrets everywhere. Some were inconsequential, others...others were soul-destroying. And he was clearly an appalling judge of character. He had no right to even guess who in this world could be trusted fully. There had been a time when he knew he was right about one person but Merlin had turned out to be the biggest liar of all. So now he had no one. He trusted Gwen with all his heart but occasionally he couldn't help but remember that even with her, there was a limit to her faithfulness.

At least when he was on short patrols or dealing with the day-to-day running of the kingdom he was usually distracted enough not to dwell but on long trips like this one, when his men relaxed enough to start talking and laughing, he realised how much he'd lost all those months ago.

It was his own fault. He should never have grown so attached to anyone, never mind a servant. He was king and kings should be strong and independent - aloof. But he wasn't. He hadn't been for a long time. Not since the day he realised he really did care whether his annoying idiot of a servant lived or died. Even now, he still caught himself turning to say something to the man when they were on patrol, still expected to see him mucking out the stables, still found himself expecting him to be polishing his armour while he and the knights were training. He hadn't even been able to tell anyone the truth about Merlin. It had been so tempting - he could have revealed the lying servant's secret, made an example of him that not even the King's own manservant was above the laws of magic, but he couldn't. In the end, the same friendship that had made him spare Merlin's life had stopped him revealing his secret to any but Gwen. After all, what good it do? Nothing would change what had happened and despite himself, he couldn't bring himself to destroy his former friend's reputation. It was pathetic.

He wondered if Emrys was out there watching him. He was no fool, once he knew what he was looking for, it was obvious that they had been receiving outside aid. The ambush by Odin's men earlier that week was a perfect example - that many men did not just trip over tree branches and knock themselves out. Almost certainly, the old sorcerer was there, watching this very moment. Frustration burned in his throat and he forced down the urge to shout something offensive at the surrounding vegetation.

He'd told Emrys to leave him alone six months ago. The old man had sneaked into his chambers the morning after...his run in with Gaius, while he'd been picking through his breakfast. How a doddering old man consistently managed to sneak past all the castle guards and into the king's private rooms was a complete mystery - Arthur was fairly sure his guards weren't that bad at their jobs.

"My Lord," Emrys had said, bowing slightly.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur demanded, pushing his plate of food away.

"I came to see you. You banished your servant last night - I thought you wanted him back more than anything, hence why I returned him to you. Had I known you were just going to exile him, I might not have bothered!" Emrys sounded truly upset at Merlin's banishment.

"How I treat my servant is my own business," Arthur replied coldly. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before you had him do your dirty work. Don't worry though, I'm sure you'll find someone else willing to feed you information. Gaius, perhaps?"

"I thought," Emrys began sadly, "that we were coming to an understanding, Arthur." The king laughed bitterly but said nothing. "I had hoped our time together would open your eyes to the truth of magic but you've banished your servant because he has magic - did nothing I said to you get through that thick skull of yours?"

Arthur stood suddenly then, knocking the chair over as he did. "I didn't banish him for the magic," he snarled. "I banished him because he broke my heart! He was my greatest friend and it was all just a lie! That is the true legacy of magic: lies and heartbreak. It may not be evil in itself but nothing good ever comes of it."

"It wasn't a lie!" Emrys cried, taking an urgent step forward.

Arthur held up a hand, "Don't. You have no right to use him as a tool against me. I know of your prophesy and I swear to you now: magic will never be allowed in Camelot!"

"Arthur - "

"I thank you for your service, Emrys," Arthur ground out, cutting across the old sorcerer, "and I thank you for rescuing me from Odin and my sister. For that reason you are free to leave here in safety but you return upon pain of death."

"Please, Arthur," the old man begged, "please do not condemn all those with magic for the foolish actions of one man!"

"My decision is final."

Emrys had stood watching him for a moment, expression unreadable, before turning swiftly and leaving. Arthur hadn't felt so broken since he'd discovered Gwen in Lancelot's arms the night before their wedding.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts of six months ago that he barely noticed Mithian appear and sit beside him, careful to maintain a handspan between them.

"Are you well, my Lord?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you, Princess," he replied absently.

"It's just you seem more...distracted these days," she continued. "Sadder, somehow. I couldn't help but wonder, why? I take it Guinevere is the blacksmith's daughter you spoke of, so surely you are happy? Is marriage not all you hoped it would be?"

Arthur couldn't help the flicker of annoyance the ran through him. How dare she question him about such a thing? But as he looked at her, he realised that she was sincere in her concern, there was no malice behind her question and he found himself answering.

"My marriage is one of the best things I've ever done."

Mithian's smile was radiant and true. "That's wonderful. You deserve to be happy, my Lord."

"I am."

"And yet not as much as you were when I last saw you," she responded quickly. "Despite getting your heart's desire."

"I've...I've been distracted. This war with Odin..." he trailed off, waving a hand in a random direction. To be honest, his heart really was not in the lie anymore. People had got used to never asking him why he was so tense or short-tempered, even Gwen avoided certain topics around him, to the point where even if he'd wanted to talk to someone he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was sick of it. Sick of lying and pretending he was fine and being strong for everyone.

"Ah, I confess I had wondered if it was..." Mithian paused. Gwen had told her not to mention Merlin to the king, that the servant had left Camelot to look after his mother, who had fallen ill, and was unlikely to return, but over the last two days he had seemed so alone, so lost that she couldn't stop herself trying to help him. "If it was because Merlin is not here."

Arthur looked like he'd been punched for a moment and Mithian wondered if she'd made a terrible mistake, after all, who was she to second guess the man's wife?

"What do you know about...about that?" the king demanded harshly.

"Only that he left to look after his sick mother, Sire. I wondered if you were unhappy because he had decided not to return to Camelot. He was so dedicated to you before, I couldn't help but notice he wasn't there."

"I knew he wouldn't come back," Arthur said so quietly Mithian could barely hear him. "I just got so used to him being there...He used to insult me at least once a day, served me the most awful food, went and got drunk with my knights more often than he should and barely tidied my chambers. But he was my friend," he ran a tired hand through his hair. "I miss him."

"My Lord, surely it would be the work of a few moments to request his return? He was so loyal to you, I don't doubt that he would do so immediately once his mother is well again," Mithian said earnestly, pleased to have got such an open response from him.

"No!" Arthur said furiously, making Mithian lean away slightly at the venom in his voice. "He's gone and he's not coming back. All that is over and it's for the best." Arthur stood and bowed slightly, "Please forgive my outburst, Princess. It was a moment of weakness and will not happen again."

With that he stalked off into the forest, leaving Mithian completely bemused.

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**A/N: Please review! They give me the incentive to write more!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you very much Mediatrix (I'm glad you liked that part and you enjoyed finding out what happened 6 months ago), Impulse53669, ruby890, midnightdove, ForeverAllTheTime (I know what you mean - I'm glad I've managed to get across that it's more the hurt making Arthur act the way he is rather than the magic) and HarunoKasumi for all your wonderful reviews!**

**Next chapter, although it's only a short one - if I get enough reviews I'll update tomorrow! Lol, holding chapters to ransom!**

**Also, how great was tonight's episode?**

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A few days later Gwaine and Merlin arrived within sight of Nemeth's city walls. They had quickly picked up Arthur and the other knight's trail but had partly by design and party through only having one horse, remained at least one day behind them.

Travelling had been a quiet affair, it had started raining heavily the day before and neither man was in the mood to talk. Gwaine was unsure how much he wanted to question his friend and Merlin had not volunteered any information. In fact, mostly he slept, allowing the knight to lead the horse while he did so. His leg was getting worse but every once in a while he would clamp his hand over the wound and say something in a language Gwaine did not recognise and then drift off again.

Once he saw the city, he stopped and shook Merlin awake. "We're here."

The sorcerer looked at the city through the trees and nodded, sliding out the saddle, hissing in pain as he did. He covered his injury with his hand again and muttered something under his breath, almost immediately the pain on his face eased and he stood up straighter.

"What is that?" Gwaine asked, unable to stop himself asking this time.

"Hmm? Oh, it's a spell to help with the pain."

"Why don't you just heal it?" Gwaine paused and frowned, "You can do that with magic, right?"

Merlin laughed. "Yes. You can use magic to heal but...let's just say my talents lie elsewhere. I'm focusing on ignoring the pain."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to walk in through the front gate, sneak my way past the guards to the palace and find the stables."

"The stables?"

"Warm, dry and best of all, when Arthur decides to be a hero tomorrow and go out looking for this creature, he'll want his horse and I'll know exactly when he leaves."

"I'll try and bring you some food," Gwaine promised. "Just make sure you stay off that leg as much as possible."

"Thanks, Gwaine," Merlin said gratefully.

The knight climbed into the saddle and started heading towards Nemeth. Any lookouts would be expecting him to arrive on horseback, not walking, so Merlin would have to make his own way.

"Gwaine!" Merlin called, causing him to stop and look over his shoulder.

"Thank you for helping me. Thank you for not, you know..." the younger man trailed off and a waved a hand at the sword belted at Gwaine's waist.

"No need to thank me, Merlin," Gwaine laughed, kicking his heels back. "It would take a lot more than some magic to bother me!"

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Once he had introduced himself, Gwaine was led through the palace to what turned out to be Gareth's throne room. His friends were all sat at a long table, whilst Nemeth's new king presided at its head. The tension in the air was obvious and both Arthur and Gareth looked frustrated and annoyed.

Elyan was the first out of his chair when Gwaine entered, crossing the distance in three long strides and holding out his hand. "Ah, nice to see you finally made it, Gwaine!" Elyan said. "We did wonder if you'd found a tavern somewhere and forgotten all about us."

"No," Gwaine replied with a laugh, enthusiastically shaking his friend's hand, "but it wasn't for lack of trying, believe me!"

The others gathered around at this point and there was much back-slapping and hand shaking, until Arthur appeared and told them to return to their seats. For a moment it looked like he too might offer to shake the knight's hand in welcome but the ghost of a smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"How did it take so long for you to catch up with us?" he demanded, leaning in and lowering his voice. "It should have taken no more than a few hours."

"It took me longer than expected to find Gaius," Gwaine lied. "When I finally found him, I had to escort him back to Camelot."

"Is he all right?" Arthur asked grudgingly.

"Yes."

"Excuse me," interrupted Gareth from the other side of the room, "not that the tardy arrival of one of your knights is not cause for celebration, but do you think we could get back to our discussion."

"Of course," Arthur ground out, gesturing for Gwaine to sit. "Forgive me."

"Now tell me again why I should risk what few men I have on a fool's errand."

"Because," Arthur responded, taking a seat himself, "we came to help rid your land of this creature."

"And so you did," the foreign king admitted, taking a sip of wine. "Rode here in all your splendour to save poor, weak Nemeth. The great Knights of Camelot! Proud and noble to a man! Why then, pray tell, should the Knights of Nemeth ride with you to seek out this beast?"

It was at this point that Gwaine realised Gareth was drunk. Very drunk. "Looks like the good King has been enjoying a few too many," he muttered to Percival.

"Indeed I have, Sir Knight," Gareth said, ignoring whatever Arthur had just said to him and standing up, and leaning against the table. "And why shouldn't I? My father is dead, my kingdom lies on the brink of destruction, my sister is shunned by the very man who comes to 'save' me, and my allies forsake me. Do I not have good reason to drink?"

"We came to help you," Arthur growled, standing up himself, his voice carefully controlled.

"You? There are five of you! Do you honestly believe yourself so mighty, great King Arthur, that five of you can bring down what my entire army cannot even find?"

"Will you show us where the caves are tomorrow or not?" Arthur demanded, banging his hand on the table.

Gareth took another swig of wine and wave a hand carelessly in dismissal. "What is the point in seeking it out? If you wait, I'm sure it will come here again."

"I would rather find it and kill it away from the city. Do you not want to keep your people as safe as possible?"

The foreign king chuckled unpleasantly. "What does it matter? They are all dead, they just don't know it yet. If you wish to search about the caves, be my guest. I will have one of my men take you in the morning."

Clearly sickened by Gareth's attitude, Arthur stormed out of the throne room, followed closely by his men. Nemeth's king may have given up and forsaken his people, but Arthur would not.

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**A/N: Please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you to **Doctor-Who-Merlin-Sg1**, **Mediatrix** (you're not wrong there!), **shell22**, **Samerys707**, **HarunoKasumi**, **Ash9** (lol, I'm glad you're enjoying this fic! And yes, Merlin is a little crazy at the moment - I think all that time in the forest wasn't good for him!), and **Glacier22** for all your great reviews!**

**Another short chapter which I apologise for but otherwise it messes up the way the story develops. I'll do my best to update again tomorrow - keep those reviews coming!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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He opened his eyes and stared across the room, searching for the beast. Flickering light from the candles illuminated the horror was what had taken place in the room. Blood was splashed down the walls and ran in small rivers between the corpses scattered everywhere. Sorrow and anger welled within him as he recognised his friends lying mauled and sightless amongst the dead.

He shifted and rolled over, his vision swimming as if he was drunk and tried to stand unsuccessfully. Looking down he realised that his leg was twisted in an unnatural angle and...and it looked like he was missing a foot. This knowledge swept over him with little impact. There was no pain and it was not his foot he needed to find.

There was a wet chuckling coming from another room and he began to drag himself along the floor, slipping in the blood as he did. The distance to the door seemed shorter than it first appeared and he used the doorframe to pull himself up, leaning against it and looking inside.

There were torches everywhere, more than needed, so no corner remained in darkness. And there stood the terrible beast that had caused this carnage. It walked on two legs like a man but looked vaguely reptilian in nature, with dark scales that shifted and moved even as he watched; it had no ears but holes where it's ears might have been and almost human hands had it not been for the claws and scales. Those scales were as strong as the best plate armour and were almost impossible to cut or damage.

Although he said nothing, the creature paused and lifted its head, it's forked tongue tasting the air. With another wet chuckle it turned and brandished the man it held by the throat before holding him up against the wall by his torn chain-mail.

Although the king's face was now nothing more than a bloody mess of torn flesh, he instantly recognised Arthur and cried out in horror. The beast smiled and it was an awful sight to behold, its lips pulled back unnaturally far, revealing two rows of long, jagged, blood-stained, razor sharp teeth. Even as he watched, frozen in place, the thing lowered its head and licked his captive's face.

Arthur opened his eyes then and Merlin did not think he had ever seen such fear on this friend's face as he did in that moment. The beast opened its jaws wide and placed them almost gently around Arthur's neck, shifting as it did so Merlin could get the best view possible of what it was doing.

He stumbled forwards, collapsing as he did trying to say something, anything, but no words would come, thick blood pouring from his mouth instead. He saw Arthur's lips form his name before the creature snapped it's jaws closed and pulled back, tearing the king's throat out.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he struggled to drag himself across the room but there was something holding him back, restraining him.

"Merlin!"

He kicked out, heedless of his own injuries.

"Merlin!"

This time he focused everything he had and pushed his magic out violently. The restraints disappeared and he started to crawl again but had got barely anywhere before the restraints were back and this time they hauled him up and shook him.

"Merlin! Wake up!"

Coming to with a violent start, Merlin found himself looking into the eyes of a very concerned Gwaine, who was now sporting a not inconsiderable bruise on his cheekbone. Whatever he'd hit, he'd hit it hard.

"What's going on?" Merlin asked, confused. His head was fuzzy and he was having a hard time pulling himself out of the nightmare he'd been having.

"You were dreaming," Gwaine explained, backing off and prodding his cheek gingerly. "I tried to wake you up and you sent me flying."

"Sorry."

The knight observed his friend closely, slightly disturbed by the faint golden fire that burned in his eyes. He knew what it meant, he had seen enough magic performed but he had never seen it continue for more than a second. This had been there from the moment Merlin had opened his eyes.

"I brought you some food," he said, producing an apple, some bread and a tankard of watered-down ale.

"Thanks," the younger man said, taking them but making no move to eat.

"You might be interested to know that Arthur is planning for to go out and find this beastie tomorrow. Oh, and the new king here is a drunk, who really doesn't like us." Merlin nodded sluggishly, his eyes loosing focus. "Merlin!"

"Hmm? Yes, tomorrow. Drunk. I heard you," he said thickly, his gaze snapping back into focus.

"You shouldn't be doing this," Gwaine stated.

"This is my job. This is the reason I am what I am."

"You can't want to die for this!"

"I don't want to die, Gwaine," Merlin said intensely, "but I will if it keeps Arthur safe. I would do anything to ensure no harm comes to him."

"You're giving up so much for him and he doesn't even know."

"I'm not doing it for gratitude," the former servant muttered, his eyes loosing focus and slipping closed. "I'm doing it because it must be done. He's going to bring about peace and justice...a golden age, spoken of for a thousand years..."

Gwaine stayed with him for a while to make sure he didn't wake again before sneaking back into the castle, anger twisting in his stomach. Merlin was kind-hearted and decent, he helped people for the sake of helping them but he was determined to sacrifice everything for Arthur. He could understand it in some ways, as a knight he was sworn to give his life in the service of his king and country but the man he was sworn to had not banished him for being different. If he had, he was not sure he could be as loyal and determined as Merlin.

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**A/N: So what do you think? Merlin is most definitely not in a good way! Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here's another update! Thank you to **Glacier22** (no, no he isn't!), **Moon's Secret Dream**, **Healed535** (just trust me!), **Mark** (I had a explanation as to why I think he would, but then I realised, I wrote the story and I did it trying to keep it as much in character as I could, so of course I would believe he would act this way. As such, you are entitled to your opinion. I disagree, but you are entitled to it), and **midnightdove** for your reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The caves were about an hour's ride from the city and true to his word, Gareth sent one man down to escort Arthur and his men to them. Aethelwulf was young and terrified but despite the fact he was shaking from head to toe, he led them swiftly and directly through the forest to the mines.

As the reached the site, the horses snorted nervously and had to be encouraged forward. Arthur ordered them tied up and the knights drew their swords, looking about them alert and ready for danger. The stench of death and decay hung heavily in the air, getting stronger the further into the caves they went. Aethelwulf produced a flint and quickly lit a torch, handing it to Arthur who was leading from the front.

The meagre light illuminated the grisly scene before them. Bodies of the workers lay scattered about, torn and bloody. Behind him, Arthur heard Aethelwulf retching and Percival muttering some comforting words.

"The creature?" Leon asked.

Arthur nodded and pointed down one of the tunnels with his sword. "This way. Everyone stay close together."

They made their way through the tunnel, the smell becoming worse the deeper they went. There were bones and unidentifiable body parts covering the floor but no fresh sign of the thing that had left them and Arthur was about to order the group back when the tunnel opened out into a large cavern, an underground stream running through the middle of it. The solitary light of the torch did not reach to the corners of the cavern but it did not need to. Stacked high against the wall were various corpses, some human, some animal, all shredded and in varying states of decay.

"My God," breathed Leon.

"Back," Arthur ordered. "There's nothing else for us here."

Relived to be leaving, the knights made a speedy retreat from the caves and took deep breaths of the relatively fresh air.

"Clearly the beast is still using caves as a refuge," Arthur said. "Leon, you and Elyan take the west; Percival, Gwaine you've got the east. Aethelwulf and I will climb up there," he pointed to the top of the rock face, "and keep a look out for it. When it comes back, Percival and Gwaine, follow me inside after it. The rest of you make sure it doesn't escape."

"Lucky us, eh, Perce?" Gwaine muttered, elbowing his tall friend in the ribs.

"Gwaine!" Arthur growled.

"Yes, sorry. Going."

* * *

Dusk was beginning to fall and Merlin was struggling to keep his vision straight. He had followed the party when they left the castle, keeping out of sight when they entered the reeking caves, retreating into the shadows when they hurried out again. Hearing Arthur ambush plan, the warlock had opted to remind inside the shelter of the caves. If the king planned on following the beast into them, then it would be better for him to be there already. But hours had past and nothing happened. Silence reigned and darkness began to fall. In the distance, the curfew bell rang out from Nemeth, calling its citizens home.

Occasionally, he would cast a spell on his leg to relieve the pain and even more occasionally, he would attempt to heal the whole wound but as ever his magic seemed to refuse to be used for such a purpose.

As the night drew ever closer, the rain fell heavier obscuring everything more than twenty paces away. Fear wormed it's way into his stomach as he felt the atmosphere shift. Something was out there. Something malevolent and cruel. And worse it knew they were there. It lurked, waiting, watching.

Small rocks tumbled down the rock face, distracting Merlin for a second and then he heard two thuds as Arthur and the young knight of Nemeth jump down. Limping as close to the entrance of the cave as he dared, Merlin looked around, heart pounding. But there was nothing. All was still and silent.

Arthur called out to his hidden men and they appeared from the undergrowth, brushing off leaves and mud. "Let's go. We'll come back tomorrow."

Then he saw it. It was barely visible in the shadow of the trees but when it moved he could see the moonlight reflect from it's scales. Slowly, silently, it crept from the tree-line and Merlin watched shocked as the beast from his nightmares, huge and muscular, paused and flicked it's tongue out, tasting the air. It stood in open view, pinning it's gaze on Camelot's king, it's features twisting into an awful smile but none of the knights saw the thing stalking them. More agile than any creature of it's size had a right to be, it disappeared up the rock face and Merlin lost sight of it. But he did not need to see it to know what it's plan was.

Without thinking he threw himself out of the cave, yelling his friend's name and collided heavily with the king, the impact taking them both to the floor. Pain seared up his back as the creature's claws sank into his back and it's weight crushed the air from his lungs.

Then suddenly the weight was gone and he heard panicked yells from the men around him, an agonised scream next to him, another pained cry from further away and Arthur shouting "Scatter! Scatter!" in his ear.

He forced himself to his feet, looking around for the lurker but it was gone as were the remaining knights. Aethelwulf lay only a few steps away, most of his face missing but Merlin stumbled over to see if there was anything he could do. There wasn't.

Warm wet blood trickled down his back and he sank to the ground, his vision going black around the edges. Arthur appeared in front of him, saying...something. Blood was rushing in his ears and he just started up at his former master for second.

"I have no idea what you're tying to say to me," he slurred.

Arthur said something that looked suspiciously like "idiot" and Merlin found himself being hauled up and dragged into the woods.

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**A/N: So Merlin and Arthur have finally met up again! Let me know what you think! Please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm not cruel...so here's another quick update! Thank you **Mediatrix**, **ForeverAllTheTime** (that's ok, I always make sure the story is basically done before I post), **Healed535** (just keep reading!), **ruby890**, **Felicity P**, **BeeTree** and **Guest** for your reviews! I really enjoy reading them!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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They ran for seemed like hours to Merlin but was probably no more than ten minutes before they slid down an embankment and Arthur stopped, lowering his former servant to the ground, climbing back up and looking around. He stayed there for a few moments then slid back down in a flurry of mud and leaves.

Merlin struggled to sit up only to be pushed back down roughly. "Stay where you are, you idiot," Arthur said. "Let me see your leg."

"It's fine," Merlin protested weakly.

Ignoring his erstwhile friend, the king knelt next to him and examined the wound on his leg with surprising care. The full extent of the injury made him pull back for a moment in shock. He had assumed that the obvious limp Merlin had been suffering from as they ran through the forest was due to the creature that had ambushed them but this injury was older than the fifteen minutes since the attack. Whenever it happened it needed to be treated and quickly - it was badly infected and weeping.

Sighing, Arthur ripped a section of his shirt away and used it to bandage the younger man's leg. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. "I told you if I ever saw you again, I would kill you."

Merlin groaned as his former master tightened the bandage. "No, you told me if you ever saw me in Camelot you would kill me. We're not in Camelot."

"Don't play the fool with me," Arthur growled.

"I'm not. I'm being pedantic," Merlin stated.

"You're being contumelious," Arthur retorted.

"That's a big word, Arthur. And It's not my fault if you failed to clarify your position on my execution."

"What are you doing here?" the king reiterated. "Is that the only injury?"

Merlin shook his head. "My back," he allowed Arthur to lean him forward and check the cuts on his back. "What does it look like I was doing? I was saving your life."

"They need stitching, I think, but they're not bleeding too much," Arthur announced, pushing Merlin back down. "I don't need protecting."

"Looked like you did to me."

"How did you even know where I was?"

Merlin looked up at him as if he were a little bit stupid. "I followed you?"

"From Camelot?"

"Of course from Camelot. You didn't think I was actually going to do as you said?"

"Why can you never do as you're told?" Arthur said in frustration, standing up and looking around.

"It's a good thing I didn't, otherwise you would be dead."

The darkness was deep and the temperature was dropping. Sighing, Arthur realised he had no real idea of where they were and they would have to wait until morning before trying to make their way make to Nemeth. He looked over at Merlin, observing him properly in the dim light for the first time. The boy was thinner, wearing tattered and ripped clothing, with a full beard and matted hair. To be honest, he looked awful. A ripple of guilt ran through him at the sight - he was directly responsible for exiling Merlin and therefore indirectly responsible for the terrible state the man was in now.

No, it wasn't his fault. He had allowed Merlin to go free, against the laws he was sworn to uphold. It was he who had been betrayed and lied to by his best friend. It was not his problem if the sorcerer had nearly got himself killed.

Except it was. Because Merlin had followed him and saved his life. Again. And whilst he hated himself for it, part of him was glad to see Merlin. The anger and hurt was still there but it was muted and softer than it had been six months ago.

"How's Gwen?" Merlin asked quietly. "I've only seen her at a distance."

"She's well," Arthur replied, gathering some wood and piling near to where Merlin was resting. This time he noticed there was a faint golden fire burning in the sorcerer's eyes and he took and involuntary step backwards. "What are you doing?" he demanded harshly.

Merlin frowned. "Lying here?"

"Your eyes," Arthur responded, gesturing to them. "I know magic when I see it."

"I'm not doing anything. It's probably trying to heal my leg."

"You're not in control of it?" the king asked suspiciously, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. If there was anything more dangerous than a sorcerer, it was a sorcerer who was out of control.

"Yes, I'm in control," Merlin closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree. He hurt everywhere, alternating between too hot and too cold every few minutes. The last thing he was in the mood for was dealing with Arthur on a 'all magic is evil' rant. "But it's like breathing: I can control it when I think about it but it just happens by itself when I don't."

"Then why don't you think about healing yourself?" Arthur asked, for once sounding interested rather than wary.

"I'm not very good at healing magic."

Arthur considered that answer. It seemed that healing was not easy. Emrys and Merlin both said they had trouble with it and Emrys was obviously going to be more powerful than Merlin. He was older and was the subject of a Druidic prophesy, so it stood to reason that if he had difficulty with it, then someone like Merlin certainly would. Then again, Merlin claimed that he'd been born with magic, so maybe he should be better at it; or maybe that was why it was reacting without him having any direct control over it. All the possibilities were making his head hurt.

Merlin shivered and that dragged him from his thoughts. They needed a fire. The temperature was dropping fast and with injuries like Merlin's being exposed to the cold all night could prove fatal. That possibility shouldn't have bothered him, Merlin was a lying traitor after all, but it did.

"Are you any good at setting things on fire?" he asked reluctantly.

Merlin's eyes opened and he stared at the king in shock for several seconds before nodding slowly. "That's something I _am_ good at."

"Then..." trailing off, Arthur gestured to the pile of wood he'd gathered, unable to actually ask for Merlin to use magic.

Thankfully, it seemed the younger man did not require a spoken request, waving a hand lazily at the wood and saying something like "Fore burn". Instantly flames sprang up and light and warmth permeated the surrounding area. Seeing magic so close to him, still made Arthur uncomfortable and it was compounded by the fact it was Merlin using the magic but he was glad of the heat.

Arthur sank down against a tree and held his hands out to the fire. "We can't go anywhere tonight. We'll head back to Nemeth at first light. Get some rest," he ordered. "I'll keep watch."

Merlin watched Arthur for a moment, unsure if he was hearing him correctly. He had not imagined having a civil conversation with the king, never mind being allowed to return to Nemeth with him.

"Arthur," Merlin began, "tha-"

"Don't," Arthur said, cutting across him. "Don't thank me. Just don't."

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**A/N: Hmm, Arthur's a bit confused, no? Let me know what you think! Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Here we go! Arthur and Merlin back together...Thank you to **Healed535** (you do have to wonder!), **Mediatrix**, **Glacier22** (heh, since when as Arthur ever done something sensible like that?), **midnightdove**, **bluespiritgal**, **ruby890**, and **Ash9** (lol, yes, it's gonna take him some time!) for your great reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

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Merlin awoke pained and stiff but feeling better than he had for a while. He pushed himself up, wincing as the movement pulled on the wounds on his back. The fire was still burning well and the sun was higher in the sky than he'd expected.

"Finally awake then," stated Arthur sarcastically as he stood, looking tired but alert. "Can you walk?"

"I can try," answered Merlin, trying to stand. Pain lanced through his leg but he bit his lip and carried on, he hadn't expected Arthur to let him stay with him and got to Nemeth, there was no way he was going to push the king's patience. Placing his hand over the injury he cast the spell to mask the pain again, glad when it took affect and he was able to move freely. "Let's go."

Arthur looked uncomfortable and disapproving. "So that's how you managed to walk all this way with that leg." At Merlin's nod he continued, "How did it happen?"

"One of Odin's men snuck up on me," he replied, shrugging.

"You've been in the forest the whole time?" Arthur demanded, setting off in what he believed to be the direction of Nemeth.

"How else was I supposed to keep an eye on you?"

Arthur said nothing to that and they continued walking in silence for sometime. "The ambush in the forest," said Arthur suddenly. "We were outnumbered and then several of them just fell over some roots. I thought it might have been Emrys but that was you."

"Yes."

"And this time? How did you know the creature was going to attack?"

"I saw it. It walked into plain view. Did you seriously not see it?"

"No. Nothing. How could you have seen it when I didn't?"

Merlin waved a hand at his eyes. "Magic?"

Arthur's face tightened. "Of course."

"I'm sorry, Arthur."

"I don't want your damn apology, Merlin!" Arthur hissed, swinging around and grabbing a handful of Merlin's tattered shirt. "You lied to me! For years you lied to me, to Gwen, Gwaine. Everyone. Your friends. You used us all!" He released the other man's shirt and stepped away, shaking his head. "Why, Merlin? I thought I could trust you! I though we were friends!"

"You can trust me," Merlin replied seriously. "Everything I did was to protect you and Camelot. But what was I supposed to do? Tell you? How do you think that would have gone? Your father would have executed me without a second thought!"

"Don't blame my father for this."

"I'm not," Merlin said quietly, "but surely you can see why I didn't?"

"When were you going to tell me? Once I'd fulfilled your precious prophesy?"

Looking away, Merlin shook his head. "I was never going to tell you."

"What?" Arthur growled.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you but I knew this would be your reaction. I knew you would hate me for it and I...I was selfish. I didn't want to lose your friendship, so I was prepared to live with that lie for the rest of my life."

Arthur stared at him angrily before swinging around and striding off without a word. Merlin followed close behind but said nothing further. He didn't know if Arthur would ever forgive him but he was not about to question the angry king's willingness to let him stay close by.

They carried on that way for another ten minutes or so until Arthur stopped suddenly, turning so quickly that Merlin walked into him and had to take a stumbling step to the side to avoid doing so.

"If you were never going to tell me, what was the point? You somehow convince me that magic should not be banned but still spend your life living a lie? What was the point?" he demanded furiously.

Righting himself, Merlin replied, "If something is the right thing to do, you don't not do it just because it has little benefit to you."

Sighing Arthur scrubbed his face tiredly. "It's not the magic so much," he began, "I think...I think given time I could forgive you for that, it's the manipulation!"

Anger flared through Merlin at Arthur's words. He had given everything he had in service to the king, including his life, and asked nothing in return; he had accepted banishment, living in the forest, hiding from invaders who would have killed him the first chance they had, so he could continue to protect Arthur, but somehow the king felt he was being manipulated.

"Manipulation?" Merlin scoffed, taking an angry step forward. "How have I ever manipulated you?"

Arthur fought the urge to step back from the furious sorcerer - it was only Merlin after all. "When my father was dying, you encouraged me to use sorcery to save him. You knew where Emrys was and you took me to him, you could hardly not know what his terms would be!"

His stomach twisting, guilt took up residence in his chest again. Arthur still believed he and Emrys were separate people, it was another lie he had told to keep his secret. Although he wondered now if it would not have been better to just admit the truth that day when he had finally 'come back from the dead'. Arthur had been so happy to see him that he might have taken the news better. As it was, he could not admit it now. Not when Arthur was at least talking to him again. Well, shouting.

"I took you to Emrys because I didn't want your father to die," he said intensely.

"Why wouldn't you? He hated your kind. It's because of him there are so few sorcerers left! Why would you want to save him?"

"Because _you_ wanted to save him!" Merlin yelled. "You wanted to save him so badly, what was I supposed to do?"

Silence descended as the two men observed each other cautiously. They stood that way for long minutes, the air thick with tension each waiting to see what the other would do. To their left, there was the rustling of leaves and Percival and Gwaine stumbled out of the thick undergrowth, coming to a sudden halt as they saw the king and servant facing off.

"Er, hello?" Gwaine said hesitantly. "Merlin, is that you, mate?" Whether Gwaine's surprise was real or faked, Merlin had no idea, but he was grateful for it.

"It's good to see you, Gwaine, Percival," he said with feeling, walking over towards the two knights with a grin.

His progress was halted suddenly when Percival took an urgent step forward, holding his sword to Merlin's throat. "Stay where you are!" he warned.

"Percival, what's wrong with you?" Gwaine demanded, trying to push his friend's arm down.

"I know magic when I see it," Percival replied, ignoring his friend's attempt to move his arm with seemingly no effort. "And that," he pointed at Merlin's glowing eyes, "is magic."

"Stand down, Percival," Arthur ordered, wearily.

"What? But Arthur -"

"Yes, Percival, I know. Merlin has magic. Stand down."

"Sire," the big knight bowed his head in assent, lowering his sword.

"What are you two doing back here?" Arthur asked, falling back into his role of king and leader quickly. "I told you to scatter. That means you run and we meet back at Nemeth."

"You didn't think we were just going to leave you out here?" Gwaine asked with a grin, throwing an arm around Merlin's shoulders in greeting. "Leon and Elyan are back at Nemeth."

"I expect my orders to be followed," the king stated.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur's tone. "I though we never left a man behind?" he said. "What happened to the 'more than friends, more than brothers' stuff? They come back to help you and you're having a go at them?"

For a moment it looked like Arthur might actually hit him and he braced for the blow, feeling Gwaine tense beside him. Fist clenched, the king looked between the three men and visibly forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath and stepping back.

"Fine. Let's go," he ordered.

But Merlin wasn't listening to him, he was staring past Percival, eyes narrowed. Arthur glanced over his shoulder to see what the servant was looking at but saw nothing. Typical, six months living in the forest and the boy was still scared of shadows.

"Hey," he said, clipping the distracted sorcerer around the head, "let's go."

The blow was so light Merlin barely felt it and instead continued to look into the distance. The creature was there. It was lurking in the undergrowth sat on its haunches, tongue flicking out to taste the air. Its eyes had an all too human gleam of intelligence and as he watched, it realised it had been spotted meeting the sorcerer's gaze and peeling its lips back in an awful grin.

"Arthur," Merlin said quietly, never taking his eyes of the beast, "run."

"Unless you've forgotten, Merlin, I'm the only king here."

"Yes, I know," the former servant said, exasperated, "you're the king, I'm just a traitorous peasant. Now would you please just run!"

The creature stood and with slow and deliberate steps began to flank the small group. Merlin followed its movement, ensuring he remained between the reptilian beast and his friends.

"Gwaine, Percival, that creature is out there watching us. Would you please get our prat of a king to safety?"

"Merlin!" Arthur objected.

Percival was still confused about finding out that Merlin had magic but there was no doubt in his mind that the sorcerer was serious about the danger. With two long strides was at his king's side, hooking a large arm around one of Arthur's and started to haul him off. "Come on, Arthur. You heard him."

Gwaine was torn between duty to his king and duty to his friend. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay, Merlin?"

"Look after Arthur. He's all that matters," said Merlin, his tone urgent.

The knight shook his head at his friend's suicidal loyalty but ran after Percival, hooking his arm around Arthur's other arm and dragging the protesting monarch away. He looked over his shoulder and saw Merlin straighten up and square his shoulders as if bracing against a charge and then the trees obscured his friend from view.

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**A/N: I have a feeling some people might be upset with me again! Trust me though, everything happens for a reason! Please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: After so many reviews, I had to post this chapter up, although I'd been planning on leaving it until later! Thank you to **shell22**, **Mediatrix**, **Samerys707**, **Glacier22**, **Felicity P**, **ForeverAllTheTime** (fear not, it's going to have to happen sometime!), **kibaxkaori**, **Ash9** (your wish? My command!), and **midnightdove** (lol, yes, I liked writing that line!) for your fantastic reviews!**

**Wow, nearly 100 reviews for this story! Thank you all so much! I really hope you continue to enjoy it so much!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The creature charged towards him with surprising speed for its bulk, its teeth bared. Merlin waited until it was almost on him before throwing his hand up and sending the beast flying through the air and crashing into a tree with such force it cracked slightly. It would have been enough to kill most things but the Lurker just rolled over on to all-fours and tasted the air experimentally. With explosive speed, the scaled creature leapt high, burying its claws into the bark of the tree and turned its gaze in the direction that the three knights had gone.

Merlin followed where it was looking, panic bubbling within him. The creature could not be allowed to follow Arthur, no matter what happened. Without thinking he ran towards the Lurker, using his magic to snap the tree in half and watched in satisfaction as it crashed to the ground, crushing the beast. His satisfaction was short-lived however, as the tree shifted violently and the Lurker jumped to its feet, a trickle of dark red blood oozing from a wound on its shoulder. It stood briefly, tongue flicking in and out before shaking its head and drawing its lips back in a feral smile, leaping at the warlock before he had chance to doing anything to stop it.

It landed on the warlock, claws sinking deep into his shoulders, causing him to cry out in pain and knocking him off his feet. They landed heavily on the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs, a sharp stabbing pain lancing through his chest. He gasped, trying to breathe but the Lurker's weight was making it impossible. With deliberate cruelty, the creature chuckled wetly and dug its sharp claws deeper into Merlin shoulders, twisting them slightly, as it leant forward and licked his face. Howling in pain, Merlin formed a ball of fire in his right hand, slamming it into the side of the creature's face. It hissed in pain, releasing its grip and stumbling backwards, covering its left eye with its hands. Gasping in pain, Merlin rolled over and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, swaying slightly as he tried to focus. The Lurker was still distracted by its damaged eye and Merlin used that time to focus all of his magic and fling the beast face first into the nearest tree. A terrible cracking sound reverberated through the forest and it slid unmoving to the ground.

Merlin lowered his arm, looking down at the blood dripping from his fingertips and sank to his knees. Arthur was safe - that was what mattered. He slumped forwards, landing face first on the cold ground and let the comforting darkness carry him away.

* * *

Arthur allowed Gwaine and Percival to lead him towards the relative safety of Nemeth, guilt gnawing at him. He shouldn't have left Merlin behind. They never left a man behind. More than that, he realised, he had left Merlin to his death and that he could not live with. The devastation and loss he'd felt when Merlin had died before that was still clear in his mind, even if it had been overshadowed by his anger and betrayal at the sorcerer's lies. Liar or not, he could not live with Merlin's death on his conscience again. Lies he could forgive, the question that haunted him was if Merlin was the loyal friend he'd always believed, or if he was just working for his own ends.

Six months of living rough in the forest, avoiding bandits and Odin's men.

Suffering a life-threatening injury.

Saving Arthur's life despite the threat of execution hanging over him.

Sacrificing himself to see Arthur to safety.

In the distance there was a howl of pain, the voice obviously Merlin's and the king pulled up so suddenly even Percival came to a stumbling halt. It was suddenly so clear to him. Merlin had lied. He had magic. His loyalty was unquestionable. And Arthur could not bring himself to abandon his old friend, no matter what he had done.

"Let go of me, Percival," he ordered, quietly. "I'm going back there."

"He's a sorcerer, Sire," Percival said, frowning.

"He's my servant, my responsibility," Arthur replied, drawing his sword. "He's my friend."

Gwaine clapped a hand on his shoulder and gave him an approving look. Percival looked between them and shrugged. "Very well. Let's go then."

"No," Arthur ordered. "I want you and Gwaine to back to Nemeth, tell Gareth to gather all his people within the citadel walls. If we can't see this thing, then we need everyone close. Its the only way to protect them. Go!" he pointed in the direction of Nemeth when they hesitated.

With reluctant nods, the two knights turned and ran while he started in the opposite direction. "Arthur?" Gwaine called. Arthur stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Bring him back!" The king raised his sword in acknowledgement and sprinted off.

The clearing was upon him in a matter of minutes but the sight that welcomed him brought him to a standstill. One tree had been brought down completely, its trunk covered in dark blood and in the middle of the clearing, unmoving, lay Merlin. Stomach twisting, Arthur sprinted to the servant's side and dropped to his knees next to him.

"Merlin!" he called, rolling the boy over. Wincing at the still oozing wounds dug deep in either shoulder, Arthur was relieved to see Merlin's chest still rise and fall, confirming he was still breathing. Patting the younger man's face, he looked around hoping to see any sign of the creature and whether it was dead or alive but there was nothing. He looked back down at his friend, "Come on, Merlin!"

With a groan, Merlin opened his eyes, struggling to focus. "Arthur?"

"Who else is it going to be, you idiot?" Arthur demanded, hauling the hapless man up and pulling an arm over his shoulders.

"I thought you were going back to Nemeth," Merlin gasped.

"I am," Arthur confirmed, "and you're coming with me."

"Stop trying to be such a hero, Arthur," berated Merlin. "Leave me."

"I could say the same thing to you," Arthur said with a grin. "The hero thing really suits me more than you, don't you think?"

Merlin coughed, grimacing as he tasted coppery blood in his mouth and allowed Arthur to drag him along. "You really are a pompous prat."

"Idiot."

"Clotpole."

"Fool."

"Ass."

"Cretin."

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Merlin?"

"Thank you for coming back to get me."

"Yes, well, I realised I was setting a bad example to Gwaine and Percival letting my servant save my life like that," Arthur said carelessly.

"Your servant?" Merlin asked with a frown. "You fired me."

"Maybe I'm re-hiring you."

Merlin chuckled, then dissolved into a coughing fit. "Great, I save your life and as a reward I get to clean your dirty socks again," he muttered, wiping the blood from his lips. "Should...have stayed in the...forest."

Arthur chest tightened at the sight of Merlin coughing up blood. After everything that had happened, after coming to the realisation that he didn't care that his friend had magic, he could not bare the thought that he was too late to save Merlin. With almost no effort, he swung the thinner man over his shoulder and started jogging towards Nemeth.

"Shut up, you dunce," he said, cutting across Merlin's protests. "I swear, if you even think about dying on me, I will hunt you down in the afterlife and make your existence a living hell."

Merlin groaned. "Don't...have much of a...choice then...do I?"

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**A/N: Anyone else thinking "Finally!" lol. So, what do you think? Please reveiw!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Right, just a short one this time but I promise you the next update will be fairly meaty! Anyway, thank you **Mediatrix**, **Glacier22**, **bluespiritgal**, **shell22**, **ForeverAllTheTime**, **ruby890**, **Reviewer**, **midnightdove**, **Ash9** (who said it was dead? lol), **SereneMayhem**, and **Healed535** (I'm glad you like the name!) for your very kind reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Arthur jogged out of the tree-line, lungs and legs burning with excursion, to the glorious sight of Nemeth towering above him. Over his shoulder, Merlin had long since gone silent but Arthur could not bring himself to check if unconsciousness or death had taken his servant, so he kept running until he reached the gates of the city, his men quickly appearing from within, Mithian and Gareth in tow.

Gwaine took Merlin from him and looked stricken as he saw the state his friend was in. "Is he alive?" Arthur asked, bending over and taking deep breaths.

"Barely," replied the dark-haired knight.

"Follow me," Mithian said urgently. "I'll take you to our physician."

The two of them hurried off and Arthur straightened up. For now he had done all he could for Merlin, the best thing he could do now would be to figure out how he was going to save them all from the beast terrorising Nemeth.

"Well, well, well," Gareth said, chuckling, "looks like the great Arthur Pendragon isn't so great after all." He jerked his head in the direction his sister had gone, "Who was the peasant? One of mine? Really, you shouldn't have bothered. Its the fate that awaits all of us, why prolong his suffering?"

Something in Arthur snapped and he grabbed the foreign king by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, until their noses were almost touching. The stink of alcohol was strong on Gareth's breath. "Listen to me, you cowardly blackguard, I don't give a damn if you can't be bothered to save your people or not, because I can! If you want to drink yourself into oblivion instead of acting like a king, fine, but do it somewhere else and stay out of my way! That 'peasant' has more courage and honour in his little finger than you possess in your whole body and if you ever, ever, suggest letting him die again, I swear I will kill you! Now get out of my sight!" He lifted Gareth off his feet slightly and shoved him away, not caring that Nemeth's king landed in an ungainly heap. "Leon, are all Nemeth's citizens safe within the walls?"

"Yes, Sire. Most have gathered in the servant's quarters."

"Good, make sure there are guards with them. Lock and bar all the doors and windows except the ones leading to the Great Hall, gather the rest of the men there. This creature appears to be invisible, if we try and fight it in the open we have no chance of winning. We need to enclose it and take it down with sheer weight of numbers."

"Do you believe it to be magic, Sire?" Leon asked, cautiously.

"Whether it's magic or not is irrelevant, Leon," the king said, shaking his head. "All that matters is that it is trying to kill innocent people and we are going to stop it."

"Sire." Leon bowed his head in assent and hurried off to do as bade.

"Arthur?" Elyan asked hesitantly, approaching his brother-in-law.

"Yes, Elyan?"

"Percival said...he said Merlin has magic."

Arthur met his brother-in-law's gaze. "What of it?"

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you that magic is illegal," the knight uttered quietly.

"No. No, you don't. But you know, I really don't care. Magic or not, he's my friend and I will do whatever I can to save his life."

"You've known all this time, haven't you?" Elyan said. "That's why he's been gone. You found out and you exiled him rather than executing him. Does my sister know?"

"Of course. I don't keep secrets from Guinevere."

"Just the rest of us."

"Elyan..."Arthur warned.

"I want to know why for just the suspicion of knowing a sorcerer, my father could be murdered but your servant gets to go free."

Arthur looked away for a moment. That his family had been the cause of such a loss to his wife and brother-in-law still bothered him, although he'd had no direct involvement and had done all he could to ensure Gwen had a secure roof over her head, despite losing her father.

"Because...because my father was wrong to order your father's death, Elyan," Arthur said, placing a hand on the knight's shoulder. "It should never have happened. Tom was a loyal citizen of Camelot. And so is Merlin, for all his lies. I will not make that mistake again."

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**A/N: Like I said, short. Sorry about that - review and I promise the next one is longer! Lol.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: So, as promised, a longer chapter! Many thanks to Healed535, SereneMayhem, Mediatrix (yeah, Arthur's had enough!), rmatri540, HarunoKasumi (you'll find out in this chapter!), **Guest**, Ash9, and Glacier22 for your reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Arthur made his way to the physician's chambers wearily, having been awake for more than a day, but he was ready for the coming battle. His men were gathered in the Great Hall, and what was left of the city's people were safely ensconced in the servant's quarters with all the guards that could be spared. Nemeth's physician had refused to leave his well-stocked chambers, stating they could be reached easily by both the Great Hall and the servant's quarters should casualties occur so Arthur had ordered two guards to stand watch outside the door.

As he made his way through the mass of people huddling together in fear, he spotted Gareth slumped in the corner, staring at his hands. Disgust for the cowardly king swept through him - Gareth's people were terrified but rather than standing up and giving them hope, the king was hiding amongst them. A young girl looked up at him from the floor and gave him a watery smile which he returned confidently. No matter how slim their chances, they needed to believe that all was going to be well.

With squared shoulders he walked along the corridors, acknowledging smiles or nods with ones of his own. Once or twice people had actually shaken his hand in gratitude. Eventually he reached his destination, pleased to see the guards standing to attention, halberds at the ready, and pushed the door open.

The room was much the same as Gaius' in reality. Books and papers intermingled with herbs and potions on every shelf, a fire burned brightly on the far side of the room but the room was larger, able to comfortably accommodate three beds and a long workbench. Titus, Nemeth's physician, was a middle-aged man with short black hair and thick beard. Broad-shouldered and well-built, he was not what Arthur had been expecting, but he looked up from the pestle and mortar he was using to grind up herbs, a friendly smile on his face.

"Ah, the legendary King Arthur!" he said enthusiastically, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt and holding one out to the king. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Sire."

"And you," Arthur replied, clasping the physician's hand but unable to stop his eyes from wandering over to the bed where his servant lay.

Titus followed his gaze and his smile dimmed. "Your friend?" he asked.

"My servant, yes," Arthur nodded. "How is he?"

"Sire..." the physician trailed off sadly, shaking his head. He lowered his voice so the injured man could not possibly hear what he had to say. "My Lord, his injuries are more than medicine can heal. The wounds to his shoulders and back are bad enough, but he has at least two fractured ribs which have punctured his lungs and the wound to his leg...Even if he survived the other injuries and the infection, he would lose the leg."

Arthur shock his head in denial. "There must be something you can do!"

"There is nothing, Sire. That he has survived so much is a testament to his strength of will. I have seen many a brave knight succumb to lesser injuries."

The king closed his eyes and rubbed them, refusing to give into the sorrow building within his chest. This was his fault. He shouldn't have been so damn stubborn, he should have had faith in Merlin. Never once had the man let him down, yet he had not even been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'd been so relived when he saw Merlin step out of his room after believing he was dead and he'd sworn to himself that he would never take the people in his life for granted again. Especially Merlin - he knew there were no other servants who followed their masters into every battle, or willingly threw themselves in front of a sword to take a blow not meant for them. But Merlin was. Even after Arthur had turned his back on him, he had remained loyal and had saved the king's life again.

Once again he had paid the ultimate price for that loyalty. It was not Merlin who had betrayed their friendship, it was Arthur.

"Thank you for letting me know," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I'm sorry there is nothing more I can do, my Lord," Titus said sincerely. "I have done what I can to make him comfortable."

Arthur nodded, not trusting his voice and made his way to Merlin's bedside, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Stop pretending to be asleep, Merlin. I know you're just faking it so you don't have to do anything."

"You caught me," Merlin said with a weak smile. "But I think I deserve a break don't you?"

"Fine. You can have the rest of the evening off," the king conceded. "You'd probably just get in the way. Once we've killed this creature we'll head back to Camelot and get things sorted out."

"Arthur, don't face this thing alone," Merlin begged, rolling painfully on to his side.

"I'm not. Gwaine and the others are with me as well as what's left of Nemeth's knights."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"You're not coming, Merlin," Arthur stated stubbornly. "You need to rest."

"Don't patronise me, Arthur," Merlin growled, coughing. "No amount of rest is going to fix me. Please. I can help you one last time. You can't see this Lurker but I can."

"No."

"Arthur, you know I never do as I'm told," Merlin sat up with a groan, batting Arthur's hands away. "I'm coming with you."

"You are without doubt the worst servant in the whole Five Kingdoms," Arthur said, exasperated. It was too easy for him to drop back into old habits around Merlin, the bickering was reassuring and stopped him having to have a serious conversation with his friend. He needed to though. If he didn't he would regret it for the rest of his life - if he couldn't save Merlin, he could at least try and salvage their friendship. "Merlin, look, I want to say...I should have given you a chance to explain yourself. You're my best friend and I should have trusted you more."

Merlin blinked in surprise, his eyes still a dull gold. "Arthur none of this is your fault. This was my choice. I would do it again. Listen, in the spirit of our new found honesty, I need to tell you something."

Arthur looked at him suspiciously. "What else could you have possibly been hiding?"

"Promise me," Merlin broke off coughing and Arthur looked away. "Promise me you'll let me finish before you...start shouting."

Heart thudding with nervousness, Arthur nodded. If he had controlled his temper when he'd found out that Merlin had magic then his servant would not be lying on his deathbed.

"I'm Emrys."

Arthur blinked slowly, not sure if he'd heard correctly. "Excuse me?"

"I'm Emrys."

The king laughed nervously. "You can't be. I've met him - he's got to be at least seventy years old."

"Eighty actually," Merlin replied, this time he gasped and wrapped an around his chest hacking violently, blood mottling his lips.

"But you don't like anything like him."

"Ageing spell," the servant responded with a wave of his hand.

"But you were dead!" Arthur exclaimed. "I know, I stayed with you for hours after. You were gone!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the information Arthur had revealed. "That's true. But I was sent back...to protect you."

"Then why would you pretend to be someone else? Why would you leave me grieving over you?" Arthur demanded.

"Because I needed magic to save you," Merlin explained. "And I didn't want to you find out I had it."

"Because you were never going to tell me," the king said dully.

"I wanted...I wanted to. You have no idea how many...times during that trip I...almost told you. Especially when you...wanted to know why I...hadn't saved myself," he gasped trying to get air into his battered lungs but each breath, while necessary, was like hot knives stabbing him. "But I was scared...of your reaction," he managed a weak smile. "Turns out...I was right."

"That was you? The light in the cave? Getting caught to save Gwen? Trying to heal my father? That was you all along?"

Merlin nodded. "Everything I do...is for you, Arthur."

"You're serious," Arthur said dumbfounded. He had come to terms with the fact that Merlin had magic and was still completely loyal but before that moment, his sheer dedication had not been obvious to him. It was awe-inspiring, humbling and terrible all at the same time.

Nodding again, Merlin focused on trying to get enough air. Titus had given him a potion earlier to help with the pain but it was not wholly effective. He glanced over at at the king who looked like he wanted to say something more and his eyes looked suspiciously wet. Merlin decided that right now, the last thing he wanted to was deal with was Arthur getting all emotional on him. He was struggling enough as it was.

"If I die...will you call me a hero?" he asked with a grin.

Arthur couldn't help but return his grin, both men remembering a time years before when they had hidden from Morgana's men in the forest. "Probably."

"Just in time for me to...not enjoy it...typical."

"I tell you what," Arthur said, ruffling his friend's hair, "if we make it back to Camelot in one piece, I'll call you a hero anyway."

Merlin ducked and stood, accepting Arthur's help to do so. "I'm not sure...which is worse, you messing my hair around or...punching me in the arm," he winced and wrapped his arm around his ribs. "What's wrong with just saying 'I'm sorry I was an ass'?"

"I'm a king, Merlin," Arthur replied with mock arrogance. "I can hardly admit to being an ass to my own servant, can I?"

"You could try," Merlin grumbled.

Titus hurried over, disapproval etched on his features. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded. "You need to rest!"

"We both know me resting just means I'll die lying down...rather than on my feet," Merlin said bluntly, ignoring the way Arthur stiffened next to him.

The physician opened his mouth to say more but clamped it shut when he saw the determination on Merlin's face. Instead he went to his workbench, searching through some bottles for a moment and brought over a small bottle filled with a clear liquid and placed it in Merlin's hand. "If you insist on doing this, at least drink that. It will completely dull the pain for a time."

"Thanks," the servant said, pulling out the stopper and putting it to his lips. He stopped and frowned. "Why didn't you give me this earlier?"

"Because it only works for one dose and after that, no other painkillers will work either."

"Oh." Merlin swallowed the potion and within moments, all the pain he felt ebbed away, leaving a warm, almost fuzzy sensation in his hands and fingers. Standing up straight, he took a few experimental breaths and rolled his shoulders. "Wow. That is good stuff."

"For your sake, young man," Titus said grimly, "I pray you are not aware when it wears off."

"Come on, Arthur, let's go" Merlin said, heading to the door, his gait easy for the first time in ages.

The king followed him, pulling open the door and allowing him to go first. "Merlin?"

"Yes, yes, I know. You're the king, you give the orders."

"There is that," Arthur replied with a nod, "but I was actually going to say, I'm sorry I was an ass."

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**A/N: I hope that went some way to helping everyone's opinion of Arthur! Please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Update! Thank you to **Samerys707**, **HarunoKasumi** (keep reading, don't worry!), **bluespiritgal**, **shell22**, **Mediatrix**, **Glacier22**, **StarBolt1966**, **Impulse53669**, **midnightdove**, and **SubRosa7** for your great reviews!**

**As I post this, I am feeling totally depressed about the news they have finally decided to cancel Merlin, despite the fact that I was kind of expecting it. It got better every year and still had a lot left in it and I'm sorry that it will not be able to fulfil its potential. I hope there are films but rebooting the show would be pointless. We know what happened at the start of the show - because we watched it! Give us more of what happens after.**

**Rant over.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The two men walked in companionable silence side by side through the corridors and back to the Great Hall. Arthur was gratified to see his men had taken charge of Gareth's and organised them into groups, taking them through some sword drills. The practice would do them good and keep their minds off the battle to come.

Once he saw Merlin walk in, Gwaine said something to his group and quickly came over, pulling the younger man into a hug. "Merlin! You look better, my friend!"

"Thanks, Gwaine, I feel it."

Within moments Percival arrived studying him for a second before holding out his hand. "Arthur told me what you did in the forest, when Odin's men ambushed us. Magic or no magic, a man who saves my life gets my respect."

Merlin accepted the knight's hand, shaking it firmly and allowed himself to be steered towards the back of the hall. Arthur watched the three go with a heavy heart. He was all too aware that Merlin's health was a temporary illusion given by whatever was in that potion Titus had given him.

"So, that's your courageous peasant, then?" stated Gareth, appearing suddenly at Arthur's shoulder.

The blond king looked over at him, surprised to see him dressed in his armour with a sword in his hand. "Yes."

Gareth surveyed the room with a practiced eye. "You're men are good," he acknowledged.

"The best."

"You're a lucky man, Arthur Pendragon."

"I know."

"You were right, your servant is a braver man than I. I failed my people," Gareth muttered. "I let them down. I gave into my own fear and abandoned them. The hope I see in their eyes - you gave them that."

"I just don't know when I give in," Arthur said modestly.

"No, it's because you're a good king and a great warrior, and I am neither," Gareth dropped to one knee, offering his sword to Arthur, hilt first. "I have no right to be king and I have no heir, so I offer my allegiance to you, Arthur Pendragon, and with it all my lands and titles."

A stunned silence descended on the room, while Arthur looked around in confusion. Never had he imagined being offered another kingdom in such a fashion. The men gathered in the room watched him with interest, waiting to see what he would do. He caught Merlin's eye across the room, the servant almost beaming with pride and nodding enthusiastically.

With careful deliberation, Arthur took Gareth's sword from him. "I accept your fealty, Gareth," he turned and held the sword aloft. "For the love of Nemeth!" he cried.

The crowd roared in approval, their cheers echoing throughout the citadel.

Outside, the Lurker tasted the air and began to scale the walls of the castle.

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Merlin sat next to Arthur, waiting for the creature to make its appearance. They were of course assuming that it would even come here tonight. He might even have already killed it in the forest but either way, Merlin decided he would rather die down here amongst his friends than lying in a strange bed in a strange castle.

He coughed and grimaced at the copper taste filling his mouth. It no longer hurt but that did not take the evidence of his inevitable demise away - he was still coughing up blood and breathing was getting harder. That was, he thought detachedly, probably the blood filling his lungs.

Every once in a while he would catch Arthur studying him with concern on his face and grinned at the king. At least his friendship with Arthur had been somewhat repaired, that was something to be grateful for. He was just sorry their reconciliation would be so short-lived.

A shadow caught his eye and he looked up at on of the rafters of the Great Hall, studying them carefully. He was about to dismiss it as nothing but then the shadow moved suddenly, disappearing along the beam.

"It's here," he said urgently, shaking Arthur from his doze.

"Where?" the king asked, alert in an instant.

"Up there," Merlin pointed to where he'd seen the Lurker and Arthur nodded sharply.

"On your feet, men!" he called. "It's here. Listen to Merlin, direct your blows where he says! Close that door!"

There was a ripple of nervous assent from the gathered warriors as they readied themselves, checking swords and armour a final time, and two men shut and barred the door to the Hall. Silence descended on throughout the Hall, until only the sound of men breathing and the crackle of torches and the huge fire in the fireplace disturbed it.

Tensed and alert next to his king, Merlin scanned the ceiling for any glimpse of the beast. Long moments dragged on until, almost too fast for him to see, the creature leapt from the furthest rafter, landing in the middle of a troop. It lashed out with its grotesquely muscular arms, sending two men flying before sinking its teeth into the throat of another.

Unable to do anything more than yell, Merlin watched in horror as the beast tore through another two men, before it leapt away, clinging to the wall and scurrying back towards the safety of the rafters. Reacting on instinct he flung a ball of fire at the creature but it dove out the way and the flames exploded harmlessly against the wall. The Lurker landed on the back on another man, crushing his head with its hands.

"Percival, behind you!" Merlin yelled.

The muscular knight spun on the spot thrusting his sword at where he guessed the creature to be. The blade struck the scales of the beast's back and glanced off barely scratching them. Hissing in anger, it swung its arm out in a wide arc, catching the big knight under his chin, snapping his head back and knocking him off his feet. Percival collapsed unmoving and the Lurker jumped up again, dodging the fire balls Merlin sent its way and disappeared into the shadows of the rafters.

In less than a minute three men lay dead and another three were either dead or unconscious, including Percival. The knights from both nations began to automatically close ranks, gathering around the king. Ever the warrior, Arthur saw what was happening and yelled at them not to bunch up; they were more vulnerable if they were close together since the creature would be able to take down several of them at once. The knights spread out again, looking around desperate to catch a glimpse of the Lurker, despite knowing they would not.

"Come on, Merlin!" Arthur said, looking up at the rafters. "Where is it?"

"I'm looking!"

Nothing moved amongst the beams and the tension increased as the men waited for another lightening attack or for the servant to let them know where their enemy was.

"Merlin..." Arthur yelled again, hefting his sword.

"You're not helping!" Merlin yelled in response.

Suddenly Merlin felt something slam into his back, the force driving him off his feet and he landed with bone-crunching force on his front. Thanks to Titus' potion, it didn't hurt but he watched vaguely dismayed as blood sprayed from his mouth with the impact.

Arthur side-stepped, quickly thrusting his sword at where the creature should have been and was surprised when he felt the blade bite deep. There was a loud howl and the sword was nearly tugged from his grasp, he wrenched it away with all his strength, stumbling back as whatever had hold of his sword let go suddenly. The blade was covered in thick red blood and more trailed away as the injured beast made its escape through the knights. A few, Elyan and Leon included hacked at the air as they saw the trail come close to them, both their blows rebounding off their foe. The trail disappeared suddenly and everyone looked around in confusion. Moments later the door splintered outwards in an explosion of wood.

"After it!" Arthur shouted. "It mustn't escape!" The king looked down at his prone servant, refusing to acknowledge the blood surrounding him, "Something you need to tell me about this sword?"

The warlock stood up, spitting blood and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Maybe later." He followed his master at a run, nearly halfway down the hall when agony lanced through his chest and his leg collapsed under him. Nothing, not even the Serkets poison, had hurt so much; it was all encompassing and all consuming. Wrapping his arms around his shattered rib-cage he leant forward, desperately trying to draw a breath.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder expecting to see Merlin close on his heels, skidding to a halt when he saw his friend on his knees, arms clutching his chest. With a quick look at the shattered door he sprinted back to the younger man, pulling him to his feet and half dragging, half carrying him to a nearby pillar.

"Now is not the time to start acting like a girl, Merlin," he berated, settling his friend as best he could. Merlin looked at him as if he was speaking another language, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. "You can't do this to me now, Merlin. I need your help to kill this thing and then we've got to get back to Camelot. We've still got things to do."

Merlin blinked slowly. "Sorry don't think...going to make...it"

"Don't start with me," Arthur said, blinking back the tears forming. "I'm not giving you an option. You're the only one who can see this thing."

Merlin's gaze slipped away for a second before snapping back up to Arthur's face. "Have a...plan...for that...actually."

"What plan?"

"Not going to...like it."

Before Arthur was even able to ask what he wouldn't like about it, Merlin leant forward placing his hands on either side of the king's head. Bright pain flashed though his brain, gone almost as soon as it came, heat burning though his veins. He shook his head to clear it, staring in confusion at the soft gold glow surrounding everything. He lifted his hand and examined it, the glow fading even as he did until it disappeared entirely and returned to normal. Except where it looked normal, he didn't feel normal. A strange energy flowed though him, a power that was both completely alien but strangely familiar at the same time.

"What did you do to me?" he asked.

Merlin smirked, "Gave you my magic."

"What?" Arthur almost howled. "I can't have magic! I don't know how to use it!"

"Don't try. You don't -" he broke off coughing, "need to use it...to see the creature."

"I'm the King of Camelot, I can't have magic!" Arthur looked at his hands as if they were about to explode.

With a supreme effort, Merlin leaned forward and gripped the panicking king by the shoulders and shook him. "Arthur, you have to stop this thing," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I can't go with you but my magic can. Calm down." Taking a deep breath, Arthur nodded, clapping a hand on his friend's arm. "You'd...better hurry up though," Merlin said, slumping back against the pillar. "That spell is only going last as long as I do."

Arthur grabbed his sword and stood up, nodding seriously. "Don't do anything stupid, while I'm gone," he warned.

"Me?"

The king dashed off with a final glance at his servant. Merlin sighed and closed his eyes. He'd done everything he could, his body was broken but he hoped his magic would keep Arthur safe, even if he could not.

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**A/N: Oops, not sure Arthur was expecting that! Please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: So, we're coming to the end of this story - there's only about another two chapters left! But you might (or might not) be pleased to know that I have just finished a third and final story in this universe that wraps things up nicely! So once this story all up, I'll start putting up the next one!**

**Anyway, thank you to **bluespiritgal**, **Mediatrix**, **Ash9** (lol, probably a good thing, or can you imagine Arthur's anger?), **Healed535**, **HarunoKasumi** (glad you liked the idea!), **shell22**, **SubRosa7** (pleased you liked the twist - I was concerned at the reception!), and **Felicity P** (very kind of you to say!) for all your great reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did...well...**

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Arthur sprinted down the corridor, dismayed to see more of his men lying dead or senseless on the floor. Blood was splashed up the walls and floor but none of it seemed to be the thick dark blood of the creature they were hunting. The sounds of his men shouting in one of the smaller rooms to the left filled the air and he barrelled into the room, skidding to a stop at the sight facing him.

Only five of his men remained, Gwaine and Leon amongst them, he looked around searching for Elyan, distressed to see the knight slumped unmoving in the far corner of the room. The surviving knights were looking around them, nervously trying to keep their backs as close to the walls as possible.

Arthur quickly assessed the near empty room. "It's not here," he stated. He pointed to two of the Nemeth knights, "You three, get the injured back to the main hall. Gwaine, Leon, you're with me."

The knights all bowed their heads in assent and went about their orders. Arthur swiftly made his way down the corridor again, looking for signs of where the creature might have gone. There was nothing and the king began to fear that the creature had either escaped or that he still could not see it and it was stalking them, waiting for its opportunity.

There was a scream from the direction on the Great Hall and Arthur and his men turned and ran back. One of the men Arthur had sent back was dead on the floor, his throat gone. The other two were back to back, staring fixedly at the rafters. But the beast was not in the rafters, it was lurking in the gallery, its tongue tasting the air. It was the first sight of the terrible creature he had been hunting and it was more hideous than he had imagined. Hugely muscular, with dark scales that shifted and morphed, large sharp claws protruded from its almost human hands and two rows of long sharp teeth. Worse was the intelligence glittering in its reptilian eyes.

"Gwaine, Leon, find the stairs that lead to the gallery. If there's a door lock it, if there isn't, I want you to barricade it with whatever you can find. That's how it snuck up on us and how it's double- backed."

The two men disappeared to carry out their orders and Arthur stepped into the room, pretending to not see where the creature was lurking.

"Go!" he ordered. The men hurried past him, relieved to be out of immediate danger. Arthur settled into a defensive stance and looked up directly at the beast but it was already moving at an inhumanly fast speed, leaping from the gallery and jumping between pillars, landing by the king. It swiped at his head with its claws and he had barely enough time to dodge the blow, even so three of the creatures talons scored along his cheek and jaw. Blood tricked down his face but he didn't feel it, instead he thrust his sword low, aiming to hit the creature's stomach but it twisted at the last instant and the blow missed. The Lurker backhanded him viciously under the chin, snapping his head back. His vision blurred for a few seconds and he took a stumbling step back but remained on his feet, sword in hand.

It was on him again in an instant and he reacted on instinct, bring his sword up to block the blow coming towards his face. Even slightly stunned, he felt the blade bite into the flesh of the creature's arm but before he could take advantage, it got hold of his hand, twisting sharply and Arthur cried out as he felt bones snap, unable to keep his grip on his sword as the beast slammed him into the wall.

Arthur struggled futilely against the Lurker's grip but could not break it. Realising it had won, the beast pulled its lips back in a terrible smile and licked his face. Its breath was rancid and sickening, its teeth blood stained and foul, and even as he struggled, it leaned towards his throat, opening its maw.

* * *

Merlin forced his eyes open, blinking slowly trying to focus. As the world became clear again, a shiver of fear ran down his spine - he recognised the bodies lying in rivers of blood, the flickering firelight illuminating the terrible scene. Although there were minor differences, it was a vision straight from his nightmare. Cold dread gripped his stomach, he knew what was about to happen. Arthur was about to die and he was lying here uselessly. Slowly, agony pouring hot fire through his veins, he crawled to the pillar opposite, the sounds of fighting ringing in his ears. Dragging himself onto his feet, using the pillar to do so, he leant heavily gasping for breath and feeling light-headed.

As he watched, Arthur stumbled into view, arm pulled out to this side by an invisible force. His arm was twisted and he was slammed into the wall, his sword falling to the floor with a clatter. His face was a bloody mess but it was the expression of fear that Merlin recognised, although his magic was gone he knew what Arthur was seeing to cause it.

Without thinking, Merlin flung himself at where he believed the monster to be positioned, hoping he was not too late. He crashed into the beast with enough force to carry them both to the floor, crying out as it jarred the broken ribs in his chest, his vision dimming at the edges.

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**A/N: Hmm, Merlin really does have an over-developed hero complex doesn't he? Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Penultimate chapter! Thanks to **Glacier22**, **Healed535** (well, maybe...), **Mediatrix**, **HarunoKasumi**, and **jayley** (yes he does! But then I've also noticed for 'Camelot's greatest warrior' Arthur tends to loose badly a lot...) for your reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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He waited for the end, the bite of the Lurker ending his life. Regrets running though his mind, regret that he would never see Gwen again, that he had got Merlin killed, that he had not been able to save Nemeth from its awful fate.

Just as he felt the sharp tips of the Lurker's teeth against his throat, the beast was suddenly pulled away and he was free to move once more. He recovered quickly, seeing that somehow Merlin had managed to save him yet again. Without pausing, he bent over, grabbed his sword and plunged it deep into the throat of the prone reptilian creature - it gurgled, dark blood pouring from the wound and the beast's mouth. Even with the fatal wound it kept trying to get up, swiping the air with its talons, Arthur pulled his sword free and struck again, this time straight through the Luker's heart. It thrashed one last time and went still.

The king did not have time to be satisfied in his victory over the inhuman creature however, he dropped to his knees next to Merlin, rolling him over. The servant was pale, sweat beading on his forehead and his lips were going blue.

"Merlin!" Arthur said, shaking his servant gently. "Merlin, come on!"

Groaning, Merlin looked up at his friend though narrowed eyes. "Did we get it?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "Looks like you saved my life again."

Merlin grinned weakly, "I do make a...bit of a habit of it, don't I?" He winced and shifted uncomfortably, Arthur supported his head. "Arthur, I need you to listen to me...you need to be more careful. I'm not...going to be around to protect you anymore."

"Don't be stupid, Merlin, you're not going to die."

"I'm not being stupid," the servant smiled. "I'm being practical. Promise me...you'll take care of yourself. You forgive people too easily - it makes you...your own worst enemy."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly - how could Merlin, of all people, say he forgave too easily? The reason he was lying here, in such a terrible state, was because Arthur had refused to forgive him. But once again, the silly idiot was putting his loyalty to the king above his own well-being. If anyone was too forgiving it was Merlin.

"I don't want to hear this," Arthur said stubbornly.

"Arthur - "

"You're not going to die."

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry - I didn't want it to end like this. I'm sorry I lied to you." He was finding it increasingly difficult see anything and there was a merciful numbness working its way through his arms and legs.

Tears welling in his eyes, Arthur wished he could do something, anything. While he'd been focusing on defeating the Lurker terrorising Nemeth, he'd been able to almost ignore what was going on with his servant but now he was forced to face it head on. And there was nothing he could do. This was the same helpless feeling he'd felt when his father had sentenced Gwen to death, when his father lay dying in his arms, when Merlin had been dying after being stabbed by Odin's men - and now here he was again. He hated feeling so worthless. Especially when his fool of a servant was looking at him with such an earnest and understanding expression on his face.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "We'll get back to Camelot and - " he choked on his words. They wouldn't make it back to Camelot. They weren't going to make it out of this hall. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He'd sworn he'd protect his friends and family but he'd turned his back on the man who was like his brother, who had given his life to save him, and got him killed a second time. Anger and sorrow built within his chest, choking him further. In the six months since he had banished Merlin, things had not been right in Camelot - he'd known it, but had pretended not to notice how little relish he'd taken in his duties, or how Gwen had started to walk on eggshells around him; how the knights, who once had been as close to him as his own family, now treated him like their king rather than their friend. He'd known it was his own fault, he had pushed people away as he fell deeper into melancholy.

It was hard to admit, but without his servant, he was less of a king, less of a knight.

"You are...the most important...thing in Camelot - in Albion. Without you...everything will be undone." Merlin grasped his friend's wrist, "Don't make all of this sacrifice pointless!"

"I promise you, Merlin," Arthur said intensely, "nothing you have done will be forgotten. You are more than a hero, you're my brother."

Merlin managed a weak smile, "As you are mine. Still a clot pole...though."

Arthur could see his friend's eyes becoming more unfocused and distant and desperation flooded through him. He could feel the magic, so strange and familiar, twisting and churning in his veins, as if trying to get back to its owner and he knew that once it had gone, then Merlin would be gone as well.

He would have given anything to save his friend. If they were both part of a Druid prophesy, if he was supposed to become such a great king, how could Merlin be about to die? Because he knew without the clumsy, wise servant, he would not become this prophesied king. If the prophesy was true, then he could not allow this. He had a destiny, he could feel it, just barely, now it was about to slip though his fingers - it was an whisper of what Merlin must know but he grasped on to it like a lifeline.

Sometimes it felt like his life was planned out for him, whether for better for worse, and most of the time he did not like it. He liked to believe he was in control of his own future but this once he prayed for destiny to step in, to take over.

He wanted to save Merlin more than anything and the warlock's magic suddenly settled, a strange calmness flowing through him. The power at his disposal was awe-inspiring, he knew he could command the heavens if he chose, vanquish his enemies with a thought, and bring nations to heel with a single word. But he did not want such power, it was not his to wield, he simply wanted to heal his best friend. So the magic, serving its true master, began to do as he wished.

Slowly, he felt the magic return to Merlin, flowing into each open wound, knitting flesh and bone together, sealing wounds and burning through the infection that had taken hold. Minutes passed and Merlin's breathing eased, a healthy pallor returning to his face. The power which had been so intoxicating was gone and Arthur could not help but feel slightly bereft although another part of him was glad it was no longer flowing through his veins. Accepting his friend had magic was one thing, having it himself was quite another. Never again would he underestimate Merlin's abilities though - the man had more power at his fingertips than Arthur could ever have imagined.

After a few moments, Merlin moaned and sat up, looking around with mild surprise. He prodded his leg where the sword wound had been for so long before looking at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. "Did you just use my magic to heal me?"

The king waved a careless hand and stood up. "Well, since you were determined to die on me, I had to do something. Good servants are hard to find."

"Right," Merlin said dubiously, allowing Arthur to pull him to his feet. "Shame I'm not a good servant then, really."

Arthur laughed in relief, pulling his former servant in for a quick hug, before releasing him with a playful punch to his arm. "Come on, idiot, lets tell everyone the good news. Give these men a decent burial and get back to Camelot. You would not believe the state of my chambers. Gwen refuses to go in there now."

"You know, I think I'll just stay in the woods," Merlin said carelessly, following Arthur out the hall. "I had a nice little cave..."

"You don't have a choice, Merlin."

"Of course I don't."

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**A/N: So, see, Merlin's fine! Let me know what you think! Please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Here we go! Last chapter! Thank you to **SereneMayhem**, **Healed535**, **Glacier22**, **Mediatrix**, **rmatri540**, **Ash9**, and **StarBolt1966** for your amazing reviews! Also thank you to everyone who followed favourited this story and stuck with it from start to finish. There is a third instalment which I will start to post up soon (maybe tomorrow!). For now, enjoy!**

**_A/N: 30.11.12 I noticed a couple of mistakes which annoyed me so I've corrected them._**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Collapsed on his bed, Arthur sighed and closed his eyes. Three days had passed since the final battle with the Lurker, as Merlin had taken to calling the reptilian beast, and much of it had been spent burying the brave men of Nemeth and sorting out exactly what was going to happen to the small kingdom now Gareth had given up his throne to Arthur.

Thirteen men dead, five badly wounded, including Gareth who had lost a hand, twenty injured - the toll was incredible. Arthur was just grateful that none of his own men had been too badly wounded; Percival was concussed and bedridden, but well enough to complain about it every single time the king went to visit; Elyan had been knocked unconscious but nothing serious. It was Merlin who had been the most badly injured not that it was possible to tell now - the only evidence of his ordeal was how thin he was, which was painfully obvious now he'd had a chance to shave.

It had been the Council that had been the bane of Arthur's existence for the last two days. After they heard, and Gareth confirmed, that Nemeth was now part of Camelot's lands, they had been up in arms, declaring Gareth's decision to have been made under duress but once the surviving knights of Nemeth confirmed that Arthur had in no way coerced their former king to give up his throne, the Council had grudgingly accepted the blond king. Only to fall into a blind rage again when Arthur announced he was appointing Mithian as his representative and Steward.

"It is not appropriate!" said Richard le Savage, a wizened old man who had lost his left eye in a battle fought long ago. "Gareth has the right to expect Stewardship, not his sister." The other Councillors nodded sagely. "I would also point out that Nemeth's laws do not allow for a woman to succeed to the throne."

"It is a good thing then," Arthur had stated slowly, "that Camelot's laws do. Furthermore, I would add that Princess Mithian is not taking the throne, nor am I making her the heir - that right goes to my wife." He'd taken a perverse pleasure in emphasising the word 'wife' and watching the distaste flash of the old men's faces. He had not wanted to be King of Nemeth but now he was, he was going to rule how he saw fit.

To ensure there were no arguments or 'words of advice' inflicted upon Mithian, Arthur had ordered Leon to remain behind and help rebuild Nemeth's damaged defences. Percival would not be able to travel for another few days, so he was also staying to help. Arthur had decided to leave for Camelot at first light tomorrow with Gwaine, Elyan and Merlin but promised to send men and supplies as soon as he returned home.

A clatter near the fireplace shattered his peaceful musings and he pushed himself up on to his elbow, careful not to jar his broken arm and regarded his servant with raised eyebrows. "I have missed the constant sound of things being dropped around me," he said sincerely.

Merlin picked up the poker he'd dropped and returned it to its proper place. "Really?"

"What do you think?" Arthur demanded, sitting up and pulling off his sock. "I don't suppose the clumsy idiot routine was just an act?" he asked hopefully.

"The idiot thing was," Merlin said, picking up one of Arthur's boots and a polishing cloth.

"Huh, and here I was thinking that was the one thing that definitely wasn't an act." He threw his sock at his servant's head, dismayed when, with a glance, Merlin stopped the object in mid air and sent it hurtling back at his face. It bounced off his forehead and Merlin looked absurdly pleased with himself. Arthur jumped off the bed and growled, "Nice trick."

"Thank you," Merlin replied smugly. Seeing that Arthur was clearing intending to make him pay for throwing his sock back at him, the warlock dropped the boot he was polishing and eyed his master speculatively. "I really wouldn't if I were you," he warned.

"Oh? I could take you apart with one blow."

Merlin smirked, "I could take you apart with less than that."

Arthur paused and rested his good hand on his hip. "So that's what you meant!"

The warlock shrugged and, deciding the danger was past, picked up the boot and began polishing it again. Arthur slumped down on his bed.

"I can't wait to start back for Camelot tomorrow," he stated wistfully. He waited but received no answer from his servant, who was studiously scrubbing mud from the boot. Arthur sighed and sat up again. "Right, what's the matter with you? Every time someone mentions going home you stop talking. Now believe me, normally I wouldn't complain but this dark and brooding exterior really doesn't suit you."

Merlin looked at him seriously. "I want to come home more than anything."

"But?"

"I can't pretend to be something I'm not," Merlin said in a rush, dropping the footwear to the floor.

Arthur frowned. "What are you talking about? Is this you trying to tell me you want to quit your job? You want a promotion?"

"No, no!" Merlin shook his head. "I told you I would be happy to serve you until the day I die and I meant it."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't be like Gaius, Arthur. I can't not use my magic. Without it I'm a nobody - just King Arthur's inept manservant."

It clicked in Arthur's head then. He had not spoken to Merlin about his future in Camelot, he'd been too busy with burials and sorting out all the details of who was going to be Steward of Nemeth and it seemed his silence had left the younger man believing he was only welcome if he did not use his magic. Which was...stupid really, since he'd used it a number of times in Arthur's presence and not been admonished for it.

"You are inept that's true," Arthur said nodding. "But you've never been a nobody, Merlin. It isn't your magic that makes you special."

The servant regarded his master for a moment, trying to gauge how sincere he was. It was a kind thing for Arthur to say - especially as he knew that he really wasn't that great a servant. He didn't take orders well, he answered back, and rarely managed to get chores done on time - it was his magic that made him more. It was that which gave him purpose. Without it he could not protect Arthur and without it he was nothing.

"Thank you," he replied haltingly. "But you're wrong. I was born this way for a reason, Arthur. That reason was you. My sole reason for existing is to keep you safe and without magic I can't."

The extent of Merlin's loyalty to him was staggering. How could he have ever doubted it? It was written across his features clear as day and once more the king felt guilt grip him around the chest. He'd banished Merlin for his loyalty, even though it hurt them both. It was not too late though - he would see that loyalty rewarded and repaid.

"I'm not asking you to stop using your magic," Arthur said.

"But the law..."

"Laws can be changed. Just trust me."

Merlin nodded seriously. "I do. Trust you, that is."

"Good. Right, that's enough touchy-feely talk for one night. Get out of here, I want to get some sleep."

Standing up and collecting his polishing equipment, Merlin made his way to the door of the chamber and pulled it open. He paused, looking down at the floor. "Thank you, Arthur. For everything."

"You have nothing to thank me for, my friend. I'm the one indebted to you and I fear it is a debt I can never hope to repay."

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, meeting his friend's eyes for a moment in understanding and acknowledgement before raising his eyebrows and grinning. "You could try a pay rise."

"Get out!" Arthur yelled laughing. He lobbed a pillow at his servant, who caught it in mid air with magic and flung it back with a smug grin.

"I'm never going to get bored of that," Merlin chuckled.

"You will once I've had you in the stocks for a week," the king threatened.

"Good luck keeping me there."

Arthur floundered for a response for a second before pointing to the door. "Merlin?"

"Yes?"

"Get out."

"Yes, Sire."

THE END

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**A/N: Please let me know your thoughts!**


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